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.
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| 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
