Philly Area mom, Life forever changed by adoption
We are fostering a child and his name is ___. He is eight years old. He loves cats and we have two cats. And his favorite color is green and my dad’s favorite color is green and ___ is from China too just like me but he is taller than me. And he likes Legos too so do I.
I had a conference call last night with the team going with me to the orphanage in October to serve. I talked for nearly a full hour about why we do what we do and how we do it. Near the end of the call, I shared something that I share every time.
Expect to have a day—or a few days—that you find yourself thinking, “What in the world am I doing? Why did I commit to this?” Every time I go, inevitably, I have a few of those moments when I hear a small voice in the back of my head planting doubt and fear and trying very hard to grow it. In those moments, remember this moment right now when you were excited, encouraged, felt that assurance that you were right where you were supposed to be and that you were moving forward in the good work that He’s laid out for you. Don’t be surprised by the doubt; expect it, be honest in it and share it, and let us help remind you of the truth.
Here I am. Not even 12 hours later. I’m looking at this image on the screen in front of me.
And, I hear the voice.
What in the world are we doing? Why did we commit to this?
I can easily rattle off a list of why this was a crazy idea—he doesn’t speak English, he’s older, he’s scared of cats (yes, that made it to my list), meal planning and prep is going to be tricky, I know nothing about his special need, he’s bigger than Lydia…what if he bosses her around? what if he doesn’t like her? what if he doesn’t like us?, he’s sharing a room with Drew…what if he doesn’t want to sleep there?, I have to keep up with my counseling schedule…I can’t leave Mark here with our 4 and this child too.
I sat down with my coffee in my green chair, trying to settle enough to read a little before my to-do list and four children overwhelm the day.
So if you’re serious about living this new resurrection life with Christ, act like it. Pursue the things over which Christ presides. Don’t shuffle along, eyes to the ground, absorbed with the things right in front of you. Look up, and be alert to what is going on around Christ—that’s where the action is. See things from his perspective.
Your old life is dead. Your new life, which is your real life—even though invisible to spectators—is with Christ in God. He is your life. When Christ (your real life, remember) shows up again on this earth, you’ll show up, too—the real you, the glorious you. Meanwhile, be content with obscurity, like Christ….So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It’s your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it.
Let the peace of Christ keep you in tune with each other, in step with each other. None of this going off and doing your own thing. And cultivate thankfulness. Let the Word of Christ—the Message—have the run of the house. Give it plenty of room in your lives. Instruct and direct one another using good common sense. And sing, sing your hearts out to God! Let every detail in your lives—words, actions, whatever—be done in the name of the Master, Jesus, thanking God the Father every step of the way.
And, just like that, the reset button has been pressed.
Nothing has changed. He’s still 8 years old, not 3, and taller than Lydia. He’s still scared of cats. He’s still Chinese.
But, He is who He is. That hasn’t changed either. I’m choosing to see things from His perspective. This is going to be hard. But, this is the life of love He’s called us to. This is the wardrobe He’s lovingly laid out for us. He’s gently nudging us even in our hesitation saying, “Go ahead. Try it on. I promise it fits perfectly.”
Here we go.
The deadline was Friday. MAA simply couldn’t wait any longer to get all the paperwork and details lined up for each child coming over. The children who had not yet had a host family say yes at that point were not coming this time.
Thursday evening at 5:30pm “Jasper,” one of the best friends to the little boy heading to our home in about a month, still did not have a host family.
We had already asked good friends of ours if they’d do this hosting thing with us. We live only minutes apart; we already see each other often; it would be perfect. But, when we asked them last week, they just weren’t sure and felt like the timing wasn’t right to jump into something like this. We understood and affirmed them and told them how great it would be to host along with them another time. They thought so too and said they’d be interested.
But, it was Thursday night now. I had asked everyone I knew to ask. And, the social worker heading up this program had explored every lead she had too.
So, I texted them again.
would you reconsider hosting Jasper?
That’s how the conversation started.
I could nearly hear her voice when she texted that this was hard, that her husband needed more time. She told me what I already knew about them, that they take months to make big decisions and that this was crazy to try to decide something so big in just one night. I knew that. I really did know that.
With a heart of compassion for where they were, I texted back.
Ok. I can tell the social worker to look for other families….
But, then it was quiet for a little bit. And, then I got this:
which of course warranted a fast response of this (because everyone celebrates with an exploitive of processed meat):
I posted on Facebook that if anyone wanted to help donate to make sure “Jasper” could come with his buddies, they could donate to his hosting fees. Another adoptive mom who was already smitten with Jasper’s story and his sweet face saw it and also posted on Facebook with an announcement that she’d personally match any donations made as a result of her post. Within 24 hours, generous and compassionate people rallied for the sake of a boy they have never met, and every need was met.
All three boys are coming. And, these two will be only minutes apart, swimming at the same Y pool, playing on the same playgrounds, worshipping at the same church, turning two households upside down while two families work hard to make sure they find both find theirs.
My Mother’s Day morning would have been sweet, but whatever it would have been was made infinitely sweeter by the first image I saw before even getting out of bed this morning.
He has his family.
The sweet boy I met about a year and a half ago who I called “the big brother” is now the big brother I hoped he would be…and he’s wearing the shirt to make sure he and the world knows it.
As Lydia would say, “BOOYA.”
My heart is full this Mother’s Day. Everyday, I get to do what no one else in the world gets to do: I get to pour into these 4 people. I get to be their mom.
On top of that, I get to help children find those people called to do that job for them and I get to come alongside moms and dads and children and help them go deeper and delight in each other. All that combined leaves me with a joy unspeakable today.
He has a family. He’s finally the big brother I knew he could be.
This week’s calendar has all sorts of blocked-off times when I get to sit with families to encourage them along in the right direction.
After longing and longing and fearing I may never be a mother, I have four children who are totally marvelous in every sense of the word.
Man, it’s a good day.
My mother’s day flowers, sent to me by Ian’s family. Crazy sweet of them and so sweet smelling that my house is filled with the scent of grace from them.