It Doesn't Get Easier

It's been a good long while since I've pulled up the ol' adoption blog. But when I got a card this week from an old friend who is now walking through the hard season of adoption and said she was re-reading some of my earlier posts, it made me think that now might be a good time to pick up the proverbial pen again and share some of our most recent seasons with you. 

Photo by stefan moertl on Unsplash

I wish I could say it was all sunshine and roses now. But I can't. This has been one of the most challenging Christmas seasons we've had in the eight Christmases we've celebrated with the kids. Although 2023 hasn't been a walk in the park with some of the kids (pushing boundaries, dealing with some serious issues, etc.), I have seen the way that God has been growing in the four who are still with us. I have watched Him knit us closer to Him and closer together as a family. It has been encouraging to see, especially the middle two, start to step out into their faith and dig a little bit deeper. 

Each Monday night, I meet with those two girls to work through a discipleship program from YWAM (Youth With A Mission). It's led to many good discussions, and while every week isn't deep and amazing, the ones that go deeper leave me with a sense that there is light at the end of the tunnel. I see God at work. I see His hand on their lives, and I see them starting to think a little bit differently. The older of the two has really made some huge strides in her walk with Jesus this year, and I am grateful for the ways in which God has allowed me to be a part of her journey.

On Tuesdays, I meet with the youngest two, and we read some simple Bible storybooks. Their level of understanding and comprehension is still a bit younger than their physical age, so it works for them. I tried going deeper, but the timing wasn't right yet, so we read about David and Daniel, we study Jesus paying taxes with the coin from a fish, and we talk about how they've done over the week. Have they been kind? Loving? Selfless? Have they paid attention to the ways that they can love God and love people? It's also been good...for them and for me. 

We're in our fourth year of homeschooling. Because of some struggles early on, and the ways in which they got behind in some basics (which we had to go back and focus on), we made the choice to study year-round, with occasional breaks, in order to keep them as close to their grade levels as possible. I'd rather they be a little behind but grasping the concepts well. In late summer, I brought a Bible reading program into our daily curriculum. It was something I had been doing, personally, for the last three years, which used to be called "Community Bible Reading" but is now renamed "Seeing Jesus Together." Basically, you read the entire Bible through in two years. 

In the months that we have been doing this together, five mornings a week, it has been like the glue that has made everything stick. Each morning we take our Bibles, various versions, and we read them silently. I gave them all notebooks to write down prayers, questions, or passages that stuck out to them. When the last child finishes reading, we all discuss what we learned, what stood out to us, or what we didn't understand. We read various commentaries and discuss the differences in translations. It has been so good for all of us and has totally changed the dynamics of our day.

So that's all the good. That's the stuff that I'd like to focus on, and then hit "Publish" and walk away. But I can't. Because we don't just have four kids. We adopted five. 

Our eldest is walking her own path. It started back in 2020 and has continued through her final years with us and her years out on her own. Her poor choices and actions continue to affect our family, and I struggle with both anger and sorrow over that. This week, in fact, found me crying out to God (and just plain crying) that He would move in some way. Crying out that He would take the anger I had towards her, and show me how I can love her because He does.

Having younger kids was hard. Having an adult child who is an adult in name only, might be harder. When she comes into the house reeking like an illegal substance, I want to vomit. When she leaves, and our house still smells like it, I struggle with hatred and anger and all the fleshly thoughts. When she acts like everything is okay, but she's clearly falling apart, my heart breaks for her. And yet, at this point in her adult life, there is nothing I can do, besides pray and give the best counsel I can when it is requested...even if it's immediately tossed aside. 

I know I am not alone. I have heard from other adoptive and foster parents (and even biological parents) who are dealing with similar issues. But there are times when it feels like I'm walking in darkness. When she is with us, she puts a pall over everything. I hate the fact that I feel this way about a human being who shares my last name and DNA with my other children, but doesn't feel like a part of my family at all. All her own choice, I might add. As she continues to spiral downward (and she is), there is going to come a moment when we have to protect her siblings from her lifestyle choices. There are days when I utterly hate that this is my life. 

Let me be clear: God called us to do this. He called us to do hard. He called us to die to flesh and kill off the selfishness that so permeated our lives. And He did that through the adoption. He did that by using these kids to be in our face, every day, reminding us of our need for Jesus and His sanctifying work. He continues to do it now as he even uses our eldest, in all of her self-centeredness, to point out idols in my life that I have been blind to. I strive to find ways to give thanks, to see the good, but, and I'm just being totally honest here, because this week has been HARD, there are times when I look at God and ask, "Why?" Why did you make me do this? Why are you taking me through this? Why did you put her in my life? We obeyed you, we did what You asked us to do, we took in these kids and turned our life right side up, so why aren't they all walking with You? 

There's never a guarantee. You may upend your life, and it may all fall apart anyway. You may feel like you haven't made a bit of a difference in the life of the child. It may seem as if everything you've said or done has gone unnoticed or unappreciated. But we can only see the chapter that we're in, we cannot see the end of the story.   

This morning, while scrolling on IG for a few minutes before the day started, I came across this quote from one of my favorite pastors/writers, A.W. Tozer. It seems like an appropriate way to end this post because, ultimately, it's not about us. It's not about having an easy life or a good life. It's not about having all of your kids walk with Jesus or do the things you know they could if they just tried. It's not about what the world thinks of you, whether you are a "success" as a parent or not. It's all about the process of sanctification, walking with Jesus - in the darkness and in the light. Being faithful to the calling He has given you, and tuning into His Spirit before you get to the end of your rope. 

And if you feel like you're alone in this journey, you're not. There are lots of us, stabbing blindly around, hoping we get it right, and praying for the strength to get through another day. Hang in there.

"When I understand that everything happening to me is to make me more Christlike, it resolves a great deal of anxiety."

A.W. Tozer

Adoption is NOT...

Six and a half years ago, God turned our lives right side up when He led us to adopt a group of five siblings from a country in Central America. It has been, hands down, the most challenging and rewarding life adventure we have ever undertaken. And I wouldn't have done it at all if God had not clearly instructed us to do so (if you're new and have never read our story, I'd suggest you start there).

Personal Photo Property of CG Koens - DO NOT use without permission

If you're thinking about adoption, know someone who adopted, or once watched a heart-tugging video about adoption, you might have a slightly skewed view of what it entails. I cannot speak from experience when it comes to domestic adoptions, but I can share a taste of our experience adopting from outside of the United States. And no matter where your child was born, there are some overlapping commonalities in what they might struggle with. 

As I lay awake late one night, after having received multiple texts from our adult child, who continues to struggle with depression and anxiety, the idea of this post came to mind. There are so many things adoption is, and I will write about those in a different post, but I felt it was also important to share the things adoption isn't. 

Adoption is NOT going to "fix" the kids. 

Like it or not, you are simply the newest change in their lives. After we'd been home about 9 months, our middle daughter looked at us one day over dinner and, in her still-thick Spanish accent, asked me, "When do we move to the next house?" Thinking that she meant that we were going to sell and move, I asked her to clarify. "You know, when are we moving to the next people, to their house?" 

While I processed what she was saying, she continued to calmly shovel food into her mouth, as if she had just asked the most normal thing in the world. And for her, it was. I was just the next caregiver in a long line of the ones she'd had in her seven short years on this earth.

Adoption is NOT the same thing as a "regular" family. 

No matter how much we love and care for them, we're not the same thing as being loved and wanted by their biological family. That is a barrier that is very hard to overcome. Recently, my kids asked me how old their mom was. Questions like this still catch me off guard, but I try to answer them as matter-of-factly as I can...because I will never be their first mom.

All the love, care, attention, and support in the world doesn't change the fact that I can't tell them their birth story, if they were fussy babies or when they slept through the night. I can't tell them what their first word was or which cousin or grandmother they look like, and the list goes on. 

Adoption is NOT a free pass to tell their story to anyone who asks. 

My kids each have a story. Every story is different, even though they are all biologically related. Each one has their own memories (or lack of them), experiences, feelings, and ways of processing. And it's not mine to tell. 

People often ask about their "real family," but I refuse to get into the "gorey details" of their conception and early family life, before we met them. You don't need to know. Don't judge my kids by where they started (they had no choice in that)...rather, judge them by who they are becoming and the content of their developing character.

Adoption is NOT easy. 

Although there were moments when I laughed in understanding while watching Instant Family, the fact that it was all wrapped up in a nice bow at the end didn't ring true to me. At least, not to our story. If you think that the sun will come out tomorrow...let me tell you...Annie is also a fantasy. 

Do our kids love us now? Yes, I believe they do, to the best of their abilities. Do I believe all the rough days are behind us? Not on your life. There is always something that comes out of the blue, triggers a kid, or causes an avalanche of emotions to come pouring out. 

Adoption is NOT for everyone. 

Before you decide that adoption is for you, take a long, hard look at your motivations, and be brutally honest. 

• If you're adopting because you've always wanted to be a parent, and you're looking for a sense of fulfillment - stop. 
• If you're adopting because you want to "save" children from a difficult environment - stop. 
• If you're adopting and you think the kids will be grateful - stop. 

If you're not ready to sacrifice flesh and die to self...well...welcome to the club! It's amazing how God uses tiny little people to reveal the ugliness of our own hearts. If that's something you know you need, but you are afraid of the pain of doing it, I would say you are ready. Buckle up for the ride!

Final Thoughts

If you've personally adopted, what would you add to this list? I could have gone on, but according to people who know more than me, no one reads long blog posts anymore. This one is probably too long already, but it's a starting point. I'd love to hear your thoughts, whether we agree or not, so click that comment button and let's have a conversation!

Can I Trust God?

As the parent of an almost-adult teenager, I find myself up against new challenges on a regular basis. How much freedom is too much? How much restriction will push her over the line to rebellion? How is being a teenager different now than it was 30 years ago? What will others think of the choices I'm making as a parent? And the most surprising of all (to me)...can I really trust God when it feels like the floor is continually falling out from underneath me? 

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

When what I thought I knew I am no longer sure of, can I still trust God? When my heart is wrenched out of my body, twisted, stepped on, and shoved back in by the choices and actions of those I care about, does God still have a plan, and can I trust Him to follow through with it? As an INTJ, is my sensible, logical way not better for her? Won't it keep her safe from harm, and isn't that really what we want? Can I really trust God with THIS? 

This is hard. This isn't in a book. There are no standard answers because there are no standard people. We are all unique, we are all different...and yet we are all made in the image of God. So, in the end, the answer to my big question - can I trust God? - is yes. But what does that look like? 

• First of all, it looks like spending quite a bit more time in His Word. It's hard to trust someone you don't really know, and one of the best ways to know God is to saturate yourself in His love letter to us - the Bible. 
• It also involves quite a bit more communication in the form of prayer. But not just praying that God will do things your way, rather, praying for God's will to be done, asking Him to change you (rather than the person you're praying for), and then being still long enough to hear from His Spirit.
• There's some necessary introspection as well. Do you remember what it was like to be a teenager? Do you recall your own frustrations and missteps? And more than that, do you remember what you learned from them? What if your parents swooped in and protected you from the fallout? Would you have learned in the same way? My guess is, no, you wouldn't have.
• And finally, looking back at what God has already done. This is why pillars of remembrance, whether physical (pile of rocks or shelf full of journals) or mental, are so important, because we, like the Israelites, are a forgetful people. But when you can look back and see what God has already done, the prayers He has already answered, the ways He has led you before, it's easier to believe that He will do it again. 

So, can I trust God? Can I trust Him when I receive that call at midnight? Can I trust Him when a child runs blindly towards the world? Can I trust Him to give me wisdom when the time comes? Yes, I can. Why? Because He's done it before. Because He saved me from my own stupid choices. Because when I fervently seek Him, He is faithful to respond. Because both the Old and New Testaments are filled with this truth, this hope that is ours if we so choose to accept it. 

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight. (Pr. 3:5-6)

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. (Heb. 13:8)

You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in You. Trust in the LORD forever, for the LORD, the LORD Himself, is the Rock eternal. (Is. 26:3-4) 

We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose. (Rom. 8:28) 

Will it be easy? No. Will there be days when you want to take over again, because clearly God didn't get the memo about your plan for your kids (or your life)? Yes. Will you still wake up at 3 AM every night of the week and be faced with the choice to trust Him again or wallow in your pit of "what ifs"? I'm not going to lie, this may quite possibly continue to happen (even as I'm learning to let go and trust Him, this is still a nightly battle for me). But GOD is faithful. GOD is trustworthy. GOD is good, even when all you can see in the moment is darkness. 

Rejoice always, pray continually, in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God for you, in Christ Jesus. (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18)

Confessions from a Navel Gazer

I threatened to run away from home today. #TrueStory

And when a child requested food from a local restaurant (and gave me money for it), I practically threw myself in the car and talked to God all the way there, because I knew my attitude wasn't coming from Him. I knew what opportunities I had at home to show love and practice service, and I know Satan would love nothing more than to keep me gazing at my navel. And for a moment there...he won. But just for a moment.

Loving your neighbor is hard when the neighbor takes you for granted. It's hard when the neighbor complains. It's hard when the neighbor makes poor choices and refuses to accept responsibility for them. It's hard when your neighbor can point out all of your flaws, but ignores the things they need to work through. But guess what? There are no caveats to the call to love our neighbor as we love ourselves. #LoveGodLovePeople

And so I didn't "take the money and run," rather I confessed my bad attitude to the Lord as I drove to the restaurant, and asked Him to help me love through Him and because of Him. And when the next child needed something, moments after I returned home, I was able to respond with a smile and kind words - not because of me, but because of Him.

The thing I realized on my short car ride is that I'm still me. I might be an adoptive, homeschooling, self-employed mom of five, but I'm still an introvert who gets totally worn out, and who wearies from the constant noise and busyness. I'm still an INTJ who struggles when those around me are neither reasonable nor rational. The idea of picking up and moving somewhere totally new, where no one knows me or knows my story, can be quite appealing to me, depending on the day. To start over, and become whatever I want to be...how fun would that be? And yet...it wouldn't. Because my story is here. It's filled with kids who need love and compassion and attention, and it's filled with hurting and broken people (much like myself) who need a listening ear and a safe place to land. It requires dying to self if I want to truly live, and ultimately, that's far better than the temporary high of doing what it is that I want to do (or what I *think* I want to do).

So when your to-do list is long and your cares are many, when your children are bringing you to your knees and you don't think you can handle one more piece of unsolicited advice from people who mean well, but can't possibly understand your unique situation... guess what? You're not alone. And in those times, God sustains. It's okay to get in the car and tell God you want to drive away and never come back because He can handle hearing that (and your kids cannot). It's okay to sigh and cry and wonder what another life would have looked like because He already knows you're thinking it. 

But once you've had your moment, it's time to stop gazing at your navel. Yes, life is challenging. Some days you may want to chuck it all, throw the car in gear, and see how far that 1/2 tank of gas will get you. We've all been there, but we needn't stay there. In fact, let's not, okay? Let's quit pulling the lint out of our belly buttons and stuffing our poor me pillows, and start recognizing the Spiritual battle we are in on a daily basis. The battle to choose self or choose obedience. The battle to gaze longingly at the brick pits of Egypt or gaze upwardly at the gates of Heaven. Which will you choose today? If you need to get in your car and go buy some fries while you think about it, that's okay. I've been there. 

Here's to choosing well and loving boldly. 

Love Your Neighbor

My last post on the Facebook page associated with this blog was back in October. I wrote a post that reflected on the fact that it had been five years since we met and adopted our five kids. I also requested prayer, because, despite the fact that it has been five years, we routinely face what I would refer to as a "challenging" time, with one child in particular. The fact that this happens every year during this season is not lost on me, and yet still takes me by surprise each time. It's not that I am surprised that it's happening, I just forget what season it is until suddenly we are in the midst of the challenge and it dawns on me, "Oh, right, it's that time of year again." 

So I asked, and the people who follow that page prayed, and God intervened. But not in the way you might think. He didn't change the child...He changed me. 

At the beginning of 2021, I started praying that I would want more of God in my life. I didn't know what that looked like or even how to get there, but I knew it was in His will for me to desire it, and so I prayed. And the Lord answered. He took me on a journey over the last 12 months that surprised me, because it didn't involve a change in those around me, but change within me. He broke my cynical spirit and replaced it with eyes to see the brokenness of this world as He does, with compassion rather than judgment.

Around the middle of the year, I started asking God to teach me how to love Him, because I realized I didn't know how to do that. I didn't understand what it meant to truly love God with all of my heart, soul, mind, and strength. I "loved" God, but I didn't really know what it meant to be in love with God, in a deeper way than any love I have ever known on earth. I still remember the morning this fall when I woke up and the first thought in my head was, "I love You, Jesus. I LOVE YOU!" And it was said and felt in the same way - but more - as I would have said it to my beloved spouse of 21 years. 

In Walt Disney's 1991 version of Beauty and the Beast, when Beast lets Belle go to find her father, Mrs. Potts softly says, "He's finally learned to love." That was step one. What I slowly began to grasp was that if I didn't know how to love God the Father, then it was essentially impossible to love the people He created who are often not loveable at all. The ones who are nothing like me, who make poor decisions, whose behavior can often feel like nails on a chalkboard, and yet...have been created in the very image of this One I claim to love.

So after praying for God to reveal to me how to actually love Him as He calls all Believers to do (first in Deuteronomy 6:5 and then again in Matthew 22:37 and Mark 12:30), I then began to pray that He would show me how to let that love for Him overflow to my neighbors (Leviticus 19:18, Mark 12:31). My daily prayer was this simple: Father, teach me what it means to love you, and teach me how to love my neighbor as myself. I prayed it first in obedience, and then in faith, and finally out of a desire to be stripped away of self -- because self clearly wasn't working. It wasn't getting through to anyone, least of all the child who was challenging me every step of the way.  

I understand the expert in the law (Luke 10:25-37) a bit better now. Because it's easy to glibly spout off, "Oh, sure Lord, I know what Your Word says...love the Lord with all your heart, soul, and mind, and love your neighbor as yourself. I've got this." But when Christ looks at you and goes right to the heart of the issue - and it is a heart issue - and we try to justify ourselves ("But who is my neighbor?" Luke 10:29), our refusal to look honestly at self no longer works. And just as He did with the expert, He did with me. "You want to love your neighbor, Carrie? Start with the child in your house. And then move on to her friends." Who was the neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers? The one who showed him mercy. "Go and do likewise." 

And so, in November of 2021, God broke my heart in a whole new way. It was as if the lenses of self had been stripped from my eyes, and instead of saying what the world would think made sense ("Those friends are toxic, they are no good for you, you can do better!"), I began to say, "Bring them here. Let us love them. I willingly invest my resources (time, money, self) into them, because Jesus thinks they are worthy of His blood and forgiveness." And the child noticed. And when the day came, when I found myself weeping in her room, confessing my years of "gut-obedience love" for her, and sharing that God was changing me, and my love for her was so different now - the authenticity of that was allowed to be played out. 

I will never love perfectly, but I hope that I will consistently love well. Christ's love is perfect, it drives out fear (1 John 4:18), it takes the hearts of stone and turns them into hearts of flesh (Ezekiel 36:26). In 2021, God taught me that my neighbor lives in my house. My neighbor is the hard child that God placed in my care. My neighbor is the child who continues to make the same mistakes and poor choices. My neighbor carries my last name. My neighbor is the one who I was ready to write off, and instead, God used her to teach me just how far His love can go. Love God, love people. God will handle all the rest. 

"This should be obvious, but..." Advice from an Adoptive Mom of 5

People who know we adopted 5 kids have often asked me if I have any advice for other families who are looking to adopt. I find this to be a difficult question to answer because there's so much I want to say that would be utterly and completely against every adoption book or training we read or received while in this years-long process. Most of the time I keep my mouth shut, and turn down offers to share on blogs and social accounts, because our story is really just the story of God working through two broken vessels. 

In the end, our great big parenting secret involves reading the Bible, and choosing to obey it. When we were at a loss - and there have been many, many times when we have looked at each other and said, "What in the WORLD do we do?!" - God has brought a specific verse or passage to mind, giving us clarity and insight into how to apply it in our particular situation. God's Word is the best parenting handbook out there, whether you gave birth to your children or someone else did.

Advice point #2: You want to adopt or have a biological child? Get on your knees NOW. We would not be where we are today if we had tried to rely on the wisdom of man, whether that be ours, or someone else's. These kids - just like all kids, biological or adopted - belong to God, and He has given them to us for a period of time to teach and love and nurture and instruct. We knew nothing about being a parent - just like all first-time parents - and we have relied on the strength and wisdom of God to guide us, because He knows these kids better than we do. Parenting methods, cultural norms, and social biases may change, but God is the SAME - yesterday, today, and forever.

Another piece of the puzzle is to recognize individuality. Whether you're adopting one kid or five, or if you're raising biological kids, keep this in mind: no two kids are alike. Sure, some of our kids have similar personalities, but each one responds differently to correction, and the choice of corrective measure changes based on what makes each kid tick. In our five, we have a broad spectrum of personalities. One child wants to be in the center of every activity, telling everyone what to do and how to do it right - so to remove that child from the situation and go to another room is pure torture because they are no longer in control. Another child will listen to your reasons for changing behavior, and then usually removes herself to a solitary location to think it over and/or calm down. The point is: you can ask other parents what they do, but in the end you just have to get to know your own kids and then do what works best for each child. Yes, it takes work. It's called, "being a parent" - so deal with it and do it.

Finally, there's all the unsolicited advice you will receive. While people mean well (most of the time), the fact of the matter is - they aren't in your shoes. Like the Madagascar penguins, just smile and wave, boys, smile and wave. After four years with our kids, my parents (who also raised five children - all biological) finally came to me and said, "We had no idea what you were getting into. We've never dealt with what you're dealing with. And we have no advice to give you, because God is clearly giving you what you need for these kids." Yes, thank you. He has, He is, and He will. 

But to tell people to butt out or mind their own business won't get you anywhere either, so when those folks come along and tell you how to do it better or do it differently, grit your teeth, thank them for their input, and maybe even spend some time considering what they've said and if there's any merit to it at all. Because sometimes there is. Sometimes you are blind to a situation because you're right in the middle of it, living with it day in and day out. Sometimes you're just surviving. And so be open to the idea that, just maybe, there may be a nugget of truth in what they say. As I've been known to tell various kids on occasion: be willing to be wrong. If you can't be wrong, you can't learn. 

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TALK TO ME! If you've ever adopted or had children, if you were adopted, or if you've worked with children or are a childless individual who has ideas (because, believe it or not, a bunch of the theories we had before becoming parents, were actually valid - just because you're not a parent, doesn't mean you can't see an issue or offer a suggestion!), what would you add? I'd love to hear from you...even if we disagree. 😊

Adoption is Hard

Facebook memories keep popping up to remind me of what was happening in our lives four years ago. In all honesty, part of me wants to forget four years ago ever happened, and just live in the now, when the waters have calmed by 1000%. But the moment we're in wouldn't be happening if we hadn't gone through hell-on-earth first.

Adoption is hard.

It's hard on the kids.

It's hard on the (new) parents.

It's hard on the extended family, who can only watch and pray.

It's hard on friends who want to help, but feel helpless.

Adoption is hard. But God is good. 

Photo by Dayne Topkin on Unsplash

Four years ago, the 12 year old hated our guts and had no intention of saying "yes" to the judge and allowing the adoption to go through. She didn't want us, and I didn't want her. BUT GOD had other plans.

Four years ago, the 8 year old came in like a hurricane wrapped in a tornado, with an earthquake thrown in for good measure. Her outward expressions of anger unknowingly mirroring my inward screams of angst against God for making me do this. I could never love her or them. BUT GOD knew otherwise.

Four years ago, the 6 year old played every card in her repertoire to figure out how to get what she wanted. Depending on the moment she would be loving and affectionate, sullen and silent, floppy and pathetic (unable to do so much as pick up a crayon), or sad and weepy. Manipulation and deception had been her tools for survival until meeting us. I couldn't deal with that kind of behavior. BUT GOD could.

Four years ago, the 5 year old who had spent his short life (most of it in the government-sponsored children's home) being told that (as a male) he was born to be happy, was confused and angered when he came up against rules and boundaries. Spending hours repeatedly placing him back on a stool in a corner of our rented kitchen was not anyone's idea of fun. I couldn't fathom this being my life for the foreseeable future. The boy would never change. BUT GOD was already writing his story.

Four years ago, the 4 year old who idolized her oldest sister and screamed at the top of her lungs whenever I got close to her (I later found out that the oldest had told the youngest that I was an alien come to eat her 👽), tested every fiber of my being. She was trouble wrapped up in a cute outer package. And I was convinced she would never like me. BUT GOD is in the people-changing business.

Adoption is hard. But God is SO good.

Four years later, as I remember back to how they were - and compare them to who they are today - I am in awe of GOD and His work in all of us. As the 16 year old (who still calls me Carrie, because "mom" is reserved for the woman who gave birth to her) frequently communicates through funny GIFs and surprises me with Starbucks that she paid for with the money she's earned by babysitting...I often have to sit back and ask myself, "Who IS this child?" And the answer - as it is with all of them - is that she is a child of God. God has been at work in her since the day she opened her heart to Him, and the change is unreal. 

If the Carrie of four years ago could have had a momentary glimpse of what the Carrie of today lives with, she might have had more patience in the moment. But for so many reasons, I'm thankful that God doesn't allow us the opportunity to see the future, because part of what makes today so sweet is knowing where we started, and all the hard lessons learned along the way. 

Learning to let go.  

Learning to fully trust Him when I couldn't see the forest for the trees. 

Learning that I knew nothing and could do nothing without Him. 

Learning to choose, every moment, to be obedient to His calling. 

Learning that I couldn't hide in the pantry forever, and there were only so many tears to shed and packs of fruit snacks to eat before I had to go back out and deal with these tiny, angry, little sinners who God sent to my house to invade my comfortable Christian bubble.  

And I'm so grateful, in His mercy, that He did. 

New To Homeschool? Take a Breath...

Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, back in the mid-80's, there was a young girl who's parents decided to take a different educational path with her than they had with her four older siblings. The girl's mother, a teacher, went to a local bookstore for research and the owner asked her if she had considered homeschooling. She left with a set of Mary Pride's books on Home Learning, and read them late into the night. That was the beginning of a journey that the parents agreed to try for one year. One year led to two, and then three, and eventually the girl graduated (a year early) from high school, having successfully completed 12 years of education at home, and went on to attend the college of her choice. When, after a year and a half of traditional in-class work, she heard about a new online option to complete her degree, she jumped on board, dialed-up (literally), and two and a half years (and several Dean's Lists later), graduated with a Bachelor of Science in English. Because, hey...once you start living life outside the box, why not keep going, right? After graduation she spent several years working abroad with her husband, and eventually returned to the U.S. where she built a successful career doing freelance writing and editing, and eventually adopted five children from Costa Rica.

Hi. I'm Carrie, and I was homeschooled. I share this as an encouragement to you, especially those of you who may have been forced into homeschooling this year (thanks to COVID), and are afraid that you may have just irreversibly screwed up your kids. Trust me, you haven't. 

Despite the homeschool critic's age-old battle cry of "what about socialization?" I can, in fact, carry on an intelligent conversation with individuals of all ages, races, cultures, and viewpoints. I wasn't socially awkward (well, anymore than I would have been anyway, as an introvert), and I held my own in every university I attended (three, in total, thanks to an early marriage and moving around). I grew up with both homeschool and public school friends, traveled extensively, and generally enjoyed the benefits of education at home. 

When people find out that I was homeschooled, I have been told (more than once) that I seem "so normal." Hmm...thanks...I think. Normal was never my goal, by the way. Were there people we knew who shouldn't have homeschooled? Absolutely. But the same could be said of some teachers we've met over the years (who shouldn't be in a classroom). So it goes both ways. 

Photo by Thomas Kolnowski on Unsplash

Now, let me tell you another chapter of this story...

Four years ago I had homeschool curriculum all ready, bookshelves stocked, and idealistic dreams of bringing five kids home and spending our days together, learning English and building relationships. And then we met the kids. #realitycheck

Within days of our first meeting, I was in a full-blown panic, and fearfully told Peter that I just didn't know how I could homeschool these kids. Not only could I not communicate with them due to the language barrier, but they all hated me (and, let's be honest, the feeling was pretty mutual at that time). Much to my surprise, he agreed. And then, even more to my surprise, so did my parents...and all of our friends in the homeschool world. And suddenly we were back to square one, and I found myself thinking of something I never imagined doing: maybe we should put them in public school. 

As a homeschool graduate, it almost felt like blasphemy to even think it, let alone act on it, but when you feel like you're drowning, you find you'll reach out for any hand that is held out. And so we reached out via email to a friend back in our hometown, who connected us to our local public school, and four of the kids were registered before we ever got on a plane to come home. Meanwhile, my mother trekked to a small private school and spent an hour talking to the headmaster about options for our oldest. Within a week of landing on U.S. soil, all of the kids were in their respective schools. That first year was hard, but it was made easier by the tribes that we found to help us out.

For school year two, we moved them all to the same private school, where they stayed for the next two years, making things considerably easier on myself. I briefly considered homeschooling when our oldest graduated from 8th grade, but I still felt panicked at the idea of having them all home, all day, every day, so instead, we moved our two oldest to a larger private school, and I did the car line runaround every day of the week. I told anyone who would listen that if God wanted me to homeschool these kids, He was going to have to put a neon light in the sky. 

For the record, I apologize to the world for the neon light, also known as COVID-19. 

I should really know better by now than to tell God that I need neon lights. First it got me five kids when I never planned to be a parent, and then it landed me in the teacher's chair when I clearly changed my major in college from education to general studies. But here we are. 

As He did in giving me almost two years to get used to the idea of becoming a mom to five, God was once again gracious in beginning the nudge to homeschool last summer, allowing me to refrain, and then bringing the kids home in March (thanks to the coronavirus) for a "try before you buy" option. Whether I wanted to have them home all day, all the time, or not...they suddenly were. And I was suddenly responsible for making sure they got their assigned work done and being a lot more hands-on with their education. If you have school-age kids, you know what I'm talking about. We were all in the same boat. 

But what I discovered surprised me. Not only was it not as bad as I thought it would be, but I found myself being underwhelmed by what they knew - or were expected to know. And the wheels started turning. Both Peter and I believe in holding the bar high for what we know they are capable of achieving, and we also knew that enrolling all five in the larger private school - as we intended - was going to really stretch the budget. In addition to that, I was watching all the COVID panic unfold, and I didn't see an end in sight. Something told me that school was not going to play out as usual for the 20/21 school year, and whether we could swing it financially or not, I might still end up with all five of them doing school from home. 

The final nail in the coffin came when my primary client dropped my hours by about 90% (directly linked to the impact of the virus on businesses everywhere). With my loss of income, there was no way that we would be able to swing five kids in a private school, and in an instant, I knew that the decision had been made for me. I informed the school that our circumstances had changed and we would not be able to return this fall, and spent the next two days researching curriculum, buying lesson plan books, and registering with HomelifeAcademy and HSLDA. I had come full circle: from homeschool student to homeschool mom. 

Knowing that there would be no summer camps or ways to fill the endless summer days (after an endless spring at home), I made the decision to begin school in mid-June, just two weeks after the 19/20 school year ended. There were a few minor complaints from the kids, but since they quickly realized there was nothing else to fill their days, we all settled in pretty quickly and found our groove. In the two and a half months that we have been plugging away, I've seen massive growth in all of them. Those who were struggling to read when they came home in March, are now reading their history and science text books solo, and making A's on their (closed book) tests and quizzes. The ones who balked at being expected to actually read for understanding and remember what they learned, have now figured out ways to study for exams and are pointing out vocabulary words in the books that they're choosing to read for fun in their free time. 

Let me be clear: I am still not a teacher. But no one cares more about these kids and their academic and life success, than I do. And that's all that matters in the end. I am personally invested in making sure they have what they need to be successful, and I get excited when I see something click in their heads as they read or study. There's no greater "high" as a teacher or mom than to see the light bulb moments, and to feed into their interests so that they realize that learning doesn't just happen in a classroom...it happens in life. Right now, on the base of the world globe that is sitting on my desk, you would find a dead beetle, two cicada shells, a blue egg shell, several bird feathers, and a slowly dehydrating fly that we're still attempting to identify. 

As we have done from the beginning of our parenting journey, we are just taking this one school year at a time. I may still be finding my way as a homeschool mom and teacher, but as a homeschool graduate, I can say with confidence that if you're concerned that your kids won't come out of this year the same, you'd be absolutely right. They will come out with more confidence, a variety of usable life skills, and a new way of relating to you as someone other than the person who puts food on the table. Go forth and conquer...

The #AdoptiveMom: Thoughts on COVID-19, Consistency, and Time

It's been three and a half years since we met our kids for the first time. It often feels like a lifetime to me, but realistically, three and a half years isn't that long ago, if you think of it in terms of other life events. For example...

• A 3.5 year old child might have only recently ditched the diapers.
• It takes 4 years to get through college.
• If you've been married for "almost...a long time" (Taylor Mason reference starts at the 1:58 mark) and you meet someone who says they've been married for 3.5 years, you smile in that knowing way and mentally pat them on the head (oh, come on...you know you do!).

But after the initial adoption adjustment phase, when life becomes normal...or at least a new version of normal...it can be easy to forget how short a time three and a half years really is for a child who has spent the majority of their life in flux. When their life is chopped up into before and after segments, especially if they are older at adoption, it shouldn't be a surprise when they lash out during change, especially if that change is totally unplanned - like the current "stay-at-home" requirements for COVID-19. 

Photo by James Besser on Unsplash

Most of our crew have done just fine with the adjustment from going all the time to 24/7 life at home, but there have been a few little signs of an undercurrent of uncertainty, which usually come to light in the form of old habits resurfacing. When everything is out of their control, we've noticed some of our kids reacting in ways that we thought we had moved beyond. From the family control freak (and no, this time it's not me!) arguing everything, to the child who continues to fill the dinner plate until we catch on and issue a "cease and desist," each child has reverted to an old pattern of behavior, reminding us that ingrained survival instincts will resurface when faced with change. 

Initially, we found ourselves becoming frustrated with them when we had to deal with behaviors that have not been the acceptable norm (and they know it) for a very long time (long, again, being relative to how long we've all known each other!). But once it clicked with us that somewhere, even on a subconscious level, their "fight or flight" responses were kicking in, it cleared things up for these two INTJs, and we changed our tactics and mindsets. Whether it's dealing with fighting, food, fear, neediness, or anger, we've been doing our best to assure them that some things are not changing. 

• We're not going anywhere...and neither are they. 
• We still have plenty to eat, money for bills, and toilet paper in the bathroom.
• We still love them, unconditionally.
• We still have boundaries, and there are still consequences for certain behaviors.

That last point is one that I want to emphasize. It can be easy to think, "Oh, so much has changed for them, and now I have to be teacher and mom/dad as well...maybe I'll just let some stuff slide." So hear me, loud and clear: DON'T DO IT. If your kids are used to your "yes being yes" and your "no being no," don't stop doing that now! Yes, they may be knee-jerking back to their survival responses, but that's no reason to let things slide. In fact, they need consistency from you, now more than ever. They need to know that even though it seems like the whole world is going crazy, you (and the family rules and expectations) remain the same. That's something they can count on, and one of the easiest things for you to provide. Trust me, you will both be happier. 

There will be hard days and difficult weeks. There will be times when a child acts out and you are already about to lose it and your response will be less than stellar (don't ask me how I know that, just know that it's safe to assume I'm speaking from experience!), but don't give up and don't dwell on it. Apologize when you blow up, model humility, seek forgiveness (theirs and God's) and use this time to grow closer as a family. Look at it as an opportunity to learn more about them, to really get involved in their education - not just triage their crisis busywork, and to spend time together as a family. Play games, make popcorn, go outside in your backyard, serve ice cream for snack, plant a garden, and say "yes" more often than you say "no" (I even said "yes" to making SLIME!!). It may be that this period of uncertainty in the world will help cement you as a certainty in their lives.

Learning from the Darkness

Adoption is not easy.

But then again, neither is being a parent. Or dealing with illness. Or caring for aging family members. Or being single when you want to be married. Or being in a difficult marriage. Or being a widow when you wanted to grow old together. Life is full of challenges or, as our pastor said yesterday, trials.

But do you know Who's standing right in the middle of those trials, holding out His hand and asking you, "Do you trust Me?" Oh friends...trust Jesus! When you can't see the forest for the trees, when you find yourself responding more and more out of human motivations and frustrations, when the darkness is closing in and the light seems out of reach...JESUS IS THERE.

Three years ago, I couldn't see the light. I couldn't even imagine standing where we are today as a family. The sludge of daily life was sucking me downward, and my anger at God for this calling He placed on our lives was threatening to overtake me as I struggled to love five unlovable kids. I wanted my old life back. I wanted easy. I wanted freedom. I wanted the familiar. Have you been there? Or perhaps you're there even now, as you read this.

Here's the good news for those of you in the midst of the muck: it can get better, but only through total surrender. Not because of any book or blog you read. Not because you discipline consistently or love unconditionally or pray faithfully, but because God is in the people-changing business. Oh, to be sure, those things can help, and God can use them as tools to instruct us, but it is only when we stop striving on our own - depending only on those things (if I just read the right book, if I find the right counselor, if I take the right class, if I follow the right schedule...) - that we experience growth and maturity and can see the hands of God at work.

Yesterday I found myself frustrated with one of the kids, and ready to respond out of that feeling, but one of the things that God has been teaching me since becoming a parent is that I need to be still a whole lot more often and let Him run the conversation. In fact, for the last few months it has been my daily prayer that I would be Spirit-led, not Carrie-led. The result last night was a deep and fulfilling, real and raw conversation that would not have taken place had I responded in the way I wanted to originally. 

As I lay in bed afterwards, I thought about three years ago with this same child. I thought about the tears I cried as I asked God over and over why He made me go through this; why He put any of these kids in our lives, but specifically this one. I could never see myself loving this child, never imagine life being anything but difficult. Despite all the lessons God taught me about trusting Him in the time leading up to our adoption, in the middle of the trials God grew small in my mind once again, unconsciously thinking that He wasn't big enough to change this child—or even change me.

As I lay there last night and thought about the conversation that had just taken place with this same child - after a day of difficulty - I knew why He ALLOWED me to do this. Because, friends, this season of difficulty and trials wasn't something God made me do, but something that He has used to refine and mature me. THIS has purpose. THIS has meaning. THIS is why I was put on this earth—not to do what I want and follow my own path. Not to self-care my way through life, thinking only of what makes me feel good, but to DIE to self, to LIVE for Christ. To pick up my cross daily, and surrender to His plans; to be a vessel that He can use in the lives of these children, and others, for His glory.

So maybe you didn't choose singleness or widowhood. Maybe your plans didn't include caring for aging parents or battling the darkness of depression or spending months in the hospital with a sick child. Well, guess what? I never wanted to be a mother, and yet here I am. Why? Because God knew that left to my own devices, I would happily wallow in the mire of selfish love, while speaking loftily of the need to point people to Christ. What I have learned through fear and anxiety, adoption and parenthood, is it is only when we get to the end of ourselves that we discover the power that is found in Him. Growth comes in the darkness. Hallelujah!

That You May Know Him Better

The Reality: Sometimes life is just HARD.

Sometimes everything is going along easily and you start to pinch yourself, thinking, "Wow, how did we get here? Thank you, Jesus!" And then, unexpectedly, the other shoe drops, and you think, "Wow...how did we get HERE? Help me, Jesus!" This is the case whether you've adopted or birthed your children, whether you're single, widowed, or divorced, whether you've never had kids or never been married. Life changes in an instant and you're left scrambling to figure out how the pieces fit now.

And it's not always changing for the worse! Sometimes they are good changes. Changes that bring about opportunities to grow, to trust God more, to step out in faith. But even exciting changes can be scary. Stepping into the unknown is always a leap of faith, even when you trust that God is guiding you. When we adopted our 5, we KNEW - no shadow of doubt - that God called us to do it, but that didn't keep us from quaking in our boots.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

The last few days have brought about some challenging changes in dynamics for us - not bad, per se, but different. New. Potentially hard and full of pitfalls. There have been some tears, some anger, and a WHOLE lot of prayers for wisdom. I think it's often easier to step out in faith when it only involves you, or perhaps you and your spouse, but when it involves your child or children, it's a little harder.

This week I felt protective of the kids, not wanting them to have to deal with...well, I guess with life. Which isn't realistic, and that's quickly where God brought me. He reminded me, yet again, that these kids belong to Him - I'm just a temporary caretaker (just like ALL parents - biological, adoptive, or foster). He created them, He saved them, He is growing them, and He knows what their futures hold. He already knows the challenges they will face, and how they will respond. My job is to pray, to guide, and, ultimately, to continually point them back to Christ and the Scriptures for...everything!

Take ACTION: Pray for your kids!

I was reading in Ephesians yesterday and was struck by Paul's prayers for the church in Ephesus and how appropriate they were to pray on behalf of our kids (emphasis mine)...

"I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, SO THAT YOU MAY KNOW HIM BETTER. I pray also that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that YOU MAY KNOW THE HOPE TO WHICH HE HAS CALLED YOU, the riches of His glorious inheritance in the saints, and in His incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is like the working of His mighty strength, which He exerted in Christ when He raised Him from the dead and seated Him at His right hand in the heavenly realms," {Ephesians 1:17-20 - NIV}

This. This is my prayer for the children God has placed in our home. This is my prayer for myself - that I may know Him better and know the hope to which He has called me. This is my encouragement for you - to pray this for yourself, your children, your spouse, your church family. The world will crumble and fall - some days it feels like it already is! - but the Word of God will last for ever, and His power will sustain us through the highs and lows of our earthly lives.

Why Adoption Requires Us to Pursue God

While out for my morning walk today, I was listening to the audio version of A.W. Tozer's classic book, The Pursuit of God (this link takes you to the FREE Kindle & Audio version). It's no secret that the writings and wisdom of Tozer have played an important role in my life (especially when it comes to battling anxiety), but I almost came to a full stop as I listened to the narrator read the following passage (it's long, but it's so worthwhile to read!)...

The idea of cultivation and exercise, so dear to the saints of old, has now no place in our total religious picture. It is too slow, too common. We now demand glamour and fast flowing dramatic action. A generation of Christians reared among push buttons and automatic machines is impatient of slower and less direct methods of reaching their goals. We have been trying to apply machine-age methods to our relations with God. We read our chapter, have our short devotions and rush away, hoping to make up for our deep inward bankruptcy by attending another gospel meeting or listening to another thrilling story told by a religious adventurer lately returned from afar.

The tragic results of this spirit are all about us. Shallow lives, hollow religious philosophies, and preponderance of the element of fun in gospel meetings, the glorification of men, trust in religious externalities, quasi-religious fellowships, salesmanship methods, the mistaking of dynamic personality for the power of the Spirit: these and such as these are the symptoms of an evil disease, a deep and serious malady of the soul.

For this great sickness that is upon us no one person is responsible, and no Christian is wholly free from blame. We have all contributed, directly or indirectly, to this sad state of affairs. We have been too blind to see, or too timid to speak out, or too self-satisfied to desire anything better than the poor average diet with which others appear satisfied. To put it differently, we have accepted one another's notions, copied one another's lives and made one another's experiences the model for our own. And for a generation the trend has been downward. Now we have reached a low place of sand and burnt wire grass and, worst of all, we have made the Word of Truth conform to our experience and accepted this low plane as the very pasture of the blessed.

It will require a determined heart and more than a little courage to wrench ourselves loose from the grip of our times and return to Biblical ways. But it can be done. [...]

What God in His sovereignty may yet do on a world-scale I do not claim to know: but what He will do for the plain man or woman who seeks His face I believe I do know and can tell others. Let any man turn to God in earnest, let him begin to exercise himself unto godliness, let him seek to develop his powers of spiritual receptivity by trust and obedience and humility, and the results will exceed anything he may have hoped in his leaner and weaker days.

Any man who by repentance and a sincere return to God will break himself out of the mold in which he has been held, and will go to the Bible itself for his spiritual standards, will be delighted with what he finds there.

Let us say it again: The Universal Presence is a fact. God is here. The whole universe is alive with His life. And He is no strange or foreign God, but the familiar Father of our Lord Jesus Christ whose love has for these thousands of years enfolded the sinful race of men. And always He is trying to get our attention, to reveal Himself to us, to communicate with us. We have within us the ability to know Him if we will but respond to His overtures. (And this we call pursuing God!) We will know Him in increasing degree as our receptivity becomes more perfect by faith and love and practice.

O God and Father, I repent of my sinful preoccupation with visible things. The world has been too much with me. Thou hast been here and I knew it not. I have been blind to Thy Presence. Open my eyes that I may behold Thee in and around me. For Christ's sake, Amen.

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

From the beginning of our adoption journey (which started back in 2012), we have been bombarded with book recommendations and human examples that we were encouraged to explore, follow, and emulate. In the two and a half years since we met and began our journey with our five children, we have faced praise and adulation for our choices to follow God and turn our world #rightsideup. The reality is that we neither agree with the human "wisdom" found in the training books nor have we modeled our parenting choices after those who have adopted before us. Nor do we deserve any accolades for (reluctantly) following what God told us to do. 

We didn't adopt because someone else we knew had. We didn't adopt because we wanted children (read our story to know why that wasn't the case!). We didn't adopt because we were looking to find fulfillment or scratch a spiritual itch. We didn't adopt because we were inspired by a book or a video. We adopted because we chose to obey a calling. Because we made a choice to trust God, even when we thought He had the wrong people. Adoption was our way of choosing to pursue God. 

I have had parents come up to me and say, "Why are things going so well for you? What are you doing? Do you have any recommendations?" Yes, yes I do, and it's so simple you won't believe me. Devour Proverbs. Read Deuteronomy 11. Don't ignore the truth of God's Word. Throw out the adoption and parenting books written by so-called experts, and listen to the One who created your children. In our baptism-by-fire parenting experience, the biggest lesson we have learned is that if we want to be the parents these kids need, we MUST pursue God in our own lives. We must become receptive to what He wants us to learn, and how He wants us to engage and interact with the children (and others). We must break ourselves out of the mold to which we have become comfortably accustomed, and go to the Bible for our spiritual (and parenting) standards. We must actively pursue the things of God - as individuals, and as (adoptive) parents. 

Tozer reminds us that "we have accepted one another's notions, copied one another's lives and made one another's experiences the model for our own." Stop looking at everyone else, accepting their solutions for discipline and structure, copying their choices and wishing for their experiences. God didn't give you their life. He didn't give you those kids. He didn't allow you to experience everything that has brought them to this point. Stop looking back towards Egypt and start being open to what God has for you - uniquely you - and those that He has allowed you to influence. In order to be the parent (or spouse or friend or co-worker or child) that God wants you to be, you must put aside all worldly wisdom and actively, passionately, and proactively pursue a deeper relationship with our Maker. I guarantee that you will be amazed and humbled by the results.

Looking for Common Ground

I don't do a lot of adoption advice, because if adopting these 5 kids has taught me anything at all, it's that each child (and each adoption) is completely different. What worked for one of our kids may not work for one of their siblings. And our adoption story may strike a chord with you, or you may be wondering why it was so terrible when yours was so great. Either way...I just don't do a lot of advice.

However, I did want to share something that we do that has turned into a tradition of sorts, and could be something for you to consider - especially if you're newly returned to the U.S. and facing a language barrier, or if you've adopted (or are fostering) an older child.

One of the first things I ever did one-on-one with our oldest daughter (age 12 at the time of adoption) was to take her to a paint-your-own-pottery place. In the beginning, the kids were all at different schools, and school holidays and vacations rarely aligned with each other. This would leave me with days to kill with our oldest who was refusing to speak to me (and definitely did NOT like me). I knew she liked to draw and paint, however, so one day I told her that we were going out to lunch and then to a pottery shop. Despite her scowl and "I don't care" shrug of the shoulders, I could tell she was excited to be doing something, even if it meant being with me.

I introduced her to 5 Guys (burgers & fries), which she reluctantly ate (and now loves) and then we drove over to our local pottery shop and I told her she could pick anything to paint. It took her a while to decide - but it took me even longer to choose, and I suddenly heard her thickly accented English saying, "Come on, Carrie! You take so long!" It was almost the most she'd said to me (other than angry outbursts in Spanish), and she was actually smiling because she was giving me a hard time. For the next hour, we sat in relative silence while we painted, but it was the most pleasant interaction we'd had since we'd met.

Of course, when the other four heard about what we'd done, they all wanted to go and do the same, but I held off for a few months, wanting it to be something special for her. Something that she and I had done together, giving us a first good memory. These days, we grab my mother and head over to the pottery store every spring and fall break from school. One can only paint so many mugs before it becomes excessive, so this last time I decided to start an ornament collection. An ugly sweater memory of how quietly painting gave us common ground, even if it was only for an hour. 

If you've recently adopted and are struggling to find common ground, why not try something out of the ordinary? Paint pottery, visit an ice cream shop where you can select your own toppings, trek out to a corn maze or pick your own pumpkins. Mere hours after we arrived at home with the kids, we were all out at a cut-your-own Christmas tree farm, making our first memory as a family. We went again last year. And this year, our oldest heard about an Operation Christmas Child event that the youth from our church were going to help with, but before she signed up, she wanted to make sure it wouldn't interfere with our tradition of Black Friday Christmas Tree cutting. Traditions matter, so look for something you wouldn't normally do and start building those memories.

She Doesn't Call Me "Mom"

When we first saw the case file for our five kids, we knew right away that these were the children God had chosen to place in our lives. But that didn't stop us from having some significant concerns about certain aspects of the potential adoption.

Our biggest issue, apart from there being a boy (and the practicality of where he would sleep in our home), was the age of the oldest child. Her personal history, as spelled out in the file, was a difficult one. There were times when I felt myself boiling with anger over what she had experienced in her first eleven years of life, and times when I feared what she would bring with her into our home. Despite the on-paper assurances that she was excited about being adopted (which did not turn out to be true), I had an innate sense that if we said yes to this, it would be hard. Was it ever!

And then there was the reality that, by the time the adoption was finalized (she was 12 at that point), we would only have six years with her in our home before she turned 18. Six years to make an impact, six years to share God's love with her, six years to try to cope with everything that had influenced her for the first twelve years of her life. By the time she graduated (Lord willing!) from high school, we would only have been in her life for one-third of it. That's not long, and the responsibility of it weighed on me. And still does.

When we arrived in country to meet the kids, we were met with cold stares. In the initial financial plan that was given to us from the adoption agency, there was an optional line item to have a professional photographer and videographer there to record the event. We opted out of that - thinking that it would make an already awkward meeting even more surreal. This was not a reality television show...this was actual, broken, reality.

Over the next few days and weeks, we learned the truth that the oldest girl in this family group had no desire to be adopted. In the country of their birth, because of her age, she had the power to turn us down as parents and end the adoption for herself and her siblings. She very quickly made it clear that she had no desire to leave her birth country, and she could definitely do without us. As I told her later (which shows just how far we've come!), the feeling was mutual. Although I initially felt compassion for her, that quickly dwindled with every lie, snub, shouting match, and ignorant argument that she presented us with. But even though we couldn't see a future together, God still did, and His plan - as always - prevailed, despite the attempts of man to stop it.

Our first year together was rough. She hated being with us - and me specifically - and made that clear through her behavior and words. She didn't understand our faith, but that didn't stop her from diving right into the youth group at our church, and they embraced her with open arms. When she attempted to manipulate more screen time out of me in exchange for reading the Bible for one hour, every day, I chuckled inwardly and then acquiesced to her plan (much to her amazement). I told her to start in John. Less than a week later, she asked me what to read next. I told her Romans. Before she was half done with Romans, she accepted Christ as her Savior. Then the real change began.

We're just two years into this, but it's hard to remember that sometimes when I'm cooking with her in the kitchen, hanging out in her room to hear about her day, or sharing a sarcastic glance when one of her younger siblings says something that strikes us both as funny. In so many ways, she and I could not be more different - but God has become our Common Ground. We still don't hug (her choice), and certainly have our moments of disagreement (usually centered around the amount of computer time she gets), but God has brought us so far. A year ago she used to tell me she couldn't wait to go back to her birth country...to get away from me. Now she shares how she thinks God might be calling her back there as a missionary, and she knows that I'm not here to hold on to her, but to encourage her to follow wherever God leads.

While the younger four now call me "mommy" and seem to accept that title as my role in their lives, the oldest continues to call me by my first name, which is not a battle I choose to fight. In many ways, it makes sense to me. In the past, I have described our relationship as one that is closer to a foster child/parent, just a lot more permanent and legal. On her birth certificate I am now listed as her mother, and on her school papers I sign the "Parent" line, but in her heart I have not replaced the woman who gave birth to her and impacted her (positively or negatively) for the first eleven years of her life. And I accept that. I never felt called to be a mom, and maybe that's why her refusal to refer to me as such doesn't bother me, but I did feel God's calling to be an influence in the lives of each of these kids, and I can do that no matter what I'm called. My job isn't to force my way into her life and try to take the place of her birth mother, my job is to continually point her back to our mutual Heavenly Father and leave the work of conviction and change up to Him. So she doesn't call me Mom...at least she calls me her sister in Christ. And I willingly choose the latter.   

Two Year Thoughts

Let's get real here. Sometimes I feel a little bit jealous - or it may be closer to angry - when I see people with these picture-perfect adoption stories, where everything is smooth sailing (at least to the outside world), and the child in question wants to be adopted. You know what I'm talking about, right? The videos that give everyone warm fuzzies, the first-meeting pictures that make it seem like a match made in Heaven, the happy endings and tear-jerking reunions. Let me state this clearly, for the record: that is not every adoption story. 

Sometimes I feel that the other side isn't accurately portrayed because it doesn't get the accolades that the feel good stories do...but the other side is there. The hard, the ugly, the anger, the pain... it doesn't bring in Facebook likes or millions of video hits, but it's the reality for more people than you might think, it's just that no one talks about it. It's not popular to say that you didn't fall madly in love with your kid the first time you laid eyes on them. It's not kosher to admit that you wondered whether an irreversible mistake had been made. It's not fun to hear that parents hide in closets, bathrooms, and pantries, crying over the muck that they are walking through while the outside world talks about how amazing they are for adopting. It's not easy to say you feel like an adoption fraud. But it's honest. And people, it's time to get honest. 

I've shared some of our story here, and on the Facebook page, and if you've read any of the story, you know that our adoption of five siblings back in 2016 was not happiness, sunshine, and roses. But that's how GOD was able to receive ALL the glory. Prior to making the trek to their home country to meet them and finalize the adoption, we found ourselves constantly telling people that we were neither superheros nor crazy (well, maybe a little bit crazy), and expressing as clearly as we knew how that this was all God's story and His plan and we were just coming along for the ride. It was all true, in theory, but when the rubber met the road and we were face to face with the kids, the reality set in, and rather than feeling anything like superheros, we felt like sinking ships, overwhelmed by the magnitude of what God told us to take on. In fact, if we weren't 110% sure that it WAS God's plan (and not ours), we absolutely would have bailed. 

I remember feeling physically sick as we walked up the path to the building where the kids were waiting to meet us. When we walked into the room, we had a wall of people (social workers, lawyers, and care givers) standing behind us, waiting to witness that movie-worthy moment. Only it wasn't. The kids set on a bench, squished together, while Peter and I awkwardly walked forward to introduce ourselves. What do you say in that moment? 

"Hey, thanks for joining the party. We're planning to adopt you and take you away from everything you've ever known to live in a new country, learn a new language, and live with people who are still essentially strangers. Why aren't you happy?" 

Within hours of our meeting, it was made clear to us that the oldest girl - at that time, age 12 - had no intention of being adopted by us, and had every intention (and the support of certain adults in her life) of saying, "No" when we went before the judge. And she had the right to do so. She had the power to single-handedly end the adoption for she and her siblings, and she intended to use it. You don't see that in the million-hits videos, do you?

Three days of day-trips with the kids turned into two weeks of daily visits and hours spent in the car. Our visit to the judge was postponed and replaced with visits to a child psychologist for our two oldest girls (and on one surreal occasion, through a translator, us). Our initial plan of 5-6 weeks in country was extended to 8 weeks, minimum. We had to pay to extend our stay at the rental condo, pay to extend our rental car, pay for more trips with the bus and it's (God-sent) driver, and pay for more "fun" outings with the kids (required by those in authority to prove that we knew how to entertain children). And all the time I grew angrier and angrier.

If this child didn't want to be adopted, then far be it from me to force her into something she didn't want to do. If her life in the children's home was so perfect, then heaven forbid I remove her from her unlimited access to Netflix, tablets, and video games. My life was just fine without kids in it, I never wanted to do this to begin with, and maybe, just maybe, this was God finally giving me my out! Oh yes, my friends, I went there. And then I hit bottom - yelling at God, angry tears, completely in, what Anne Shirley would call, "the depths of despair." But here's the most amazing thing: when I hit bottom - GOD WAS THERE.

Did He suddenly give me an overwhelming desire for children, or abundant love for these kids in particular? No, He did not. Did He smooth out the path and make these kids fall in love with us and suddenly become hungry for a traditional family and life in the United States? No, He did not. But what He did do was give me Exodus 14:14.

When those in authority were doing everything they could to stop or delay this process, I suddenly found peace in knowing that I just needed to be still. When our family's convictions about television were questioned and suddenly became the focus of whether the adoption would continue or end (yes, this adoption teetered on the brink because of our stance on TV - tell me Satan wasn't loving that!), I felt compelled to stick to the convictions God had given me just weeks before, and the Lord fought for me. And when our daughter found herself before the judge, fully prepared to answer "No" when asked if she agreed to the adoption, God would not allow the word to come out of her mouth and instead she answered, "Yes." When we learned to be still, God showed up in ways that I can't even begin to share here. 

We're two years into this now, and here are a few things that I've learned about adoption:

• It gets better. In those first few months when people would ask me how we were doing, my ready response became, "We're surviving." And surviving - for a season - is okay. God kept us going through the darkest days and gave us glimpses of what could (and eventually, did) come, to keep us going. Two years out from meeting day and I can truly say that with God, all things are possible. Don't give up!
• No two adoptions are alike. Some people may truly have those happy endings from day one - celebrate with them! But others may go to Hell and back before they get there - walk with them!
• Stop comparing your story to the tear-jerker stories. I mean, hey, I was crying in our story, too, they just weren't tears of joy!
• Every kid is unique. Sometimes I don't have a clue how to deal with these people who are so different from my INTJ self, BUT I know that God created them with a purpose. So when I don't have a clue what to do with them, I know the One who does, and I ask for His help - constantly.
• There's a lot of bad advice out there. This is going to tick some of you off, but here it is: there is no adoption book that can tell you how to handle your kids, but God's Word applies to all.
• God is in the people-changing business. He makes beautiful things out of brokenness, and does not accept a rough past as an excuse for present behaviors (that goes for all of us). 
• Read the Bible with your kids. Show them what God says, and then let Him take it from there.
• Love is a choice. I already knew this one, but putting it into practice with a man I already liked wasn't as hard as choosing to love angry, screaming, hateful, unappreciative children who'd already had a mom and didn't want a replacement. Every morning for the first year, I would get up and pray, "Lord, please help me choose to show them YOUR love today." 
• Don't be afraid to talk about the birth parent(s). Our children's story is one for them to share, but I will say that our kids still have relatively recent photos of their birth mom. She was far from perfect, but kids don't see the mess, they just see their mom. Don't be afraid to talk about the birth parent(s), and, if they are still alive, pray for them with the kids.
• Humble yourself. You are going to mess up more times than you care to count, so stop trying to control everything and learn how to be still and listen to God. 

Exodus 14:14 continues to be a theme verse for us, as parents, as we are daily faced with the new challenges and conundrums that come with raising these five for Him. Whether it's seeking wisdom on how to deal with lying, or what to do about a boy-crush, or how to handle a negative attitude, there are times with each child that we have said, "Lord, we've done what we know how to do. We've shared the truths from Your Word with them. Now we choose to be still and let you fight for us." And, surprise, surprise - He does. I may never have thousands of followers on my Facebook page, or hundreds of comments on a blog post. I may not write a best-selling book or have that trending video. But I have been given the amazing privilege of leading five kids to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ, and now the responsibility of mentoring and discipling them to follow Him. No social media number could compare to the joy that comes from following Jesus in His calling.