It's Not All Fun & Games

....this thing of bringing half grown children into your home.

We've heard lots of comments over the past six years.  Lots.  Ranging all over the board.

But the one that always strikes me and leaves me with no words is... "It looks so fun!"

It is fun.  The getting to know a new child.  Learning little quirks about another family member.  Listening to giggles erupt out of a new mouth.  Watching your other children openly embrace a new sibling with joy and fighting in equal parts.  Knowing that God has a plan and that you are a part of it.

That is all fun.

But let me clue you in to something.

This thing called adoption is not all fun.  Not by far.

I've known for six and a half years that adopted children grieve.  They erupt at seemingly minor things...but things that trigger memories that they can't handle except by erupting.  They want to love and belong, but loving and belonging means TRUST...and trust is hard to come by when nobody in the past has proven trustworthy. 

But the one thing that is really getting me this time around is that I have never REALLY understood the loss, the pain, the sadness, the grief, the rejection.  I have never really understood just how deeply a child grieves.

The first three spoke another language.  They only knew to scream and kick and bite and pinch when their grief overwhelmed them.

Gracie hasn't grieved that way.  She's sad, but I have yet to see her cry.  She begs to see her 'other mommy and daddy'. She begs to call them.  She begs to give them a hug.  

Adoption is a beautiful thing.  It's talked about in the Bible.  We as Believers are adopted into the Family of God.  And that is beautiful.  What could be more beautiful than knowing Jesus as your Daddy?

But adoption is also very, very ugly.  Only because of the entrance of sin into the world is adoption even needed.  In a perfect world, children would never be separated from their biological family.  In a perfect world, children wouldn't know the pain of rejection.  In a perfect world, children would never have to beg to see or talk to their 'other mommy and daddy'.  In a perfect world, children would never be abandoned or deemed unworthy of love.  In a perfect world, we wouldn't pass around children like a puppy.  In a perfect world, a child would NEVER know grief. More grief than I have ever known in my life. 

I've posted a story on here several different times...  It starts by you writing five of your most treasured things in this life on five different pieces of paper.  One by one each of them are taken away and you are left with not one thing that means anything to you.  And at the end some kind people come and take you to a new home.  A home where they claim to love you.  A home that offers you all the comforts of life that you can possibly imagine.  A home in which the folks there say they are your forever family. 

But there's one problem.  You don't know these people.  The last people said they loved you too, but they sent you to a new family.  You don't trust these folks at all, no matter how much they tell you that you will be there for them as long as God allows.  You don't have any of your favorite things with you cause they were all taken away.  This new home is nice enough, but it's scary.  What happened to the folks you used to live with?  Why didn't they want you anymore?  When can you go back home again?  Why is this happening?!

The story is much, much longer than this, but you get the main idea. 

Basically, as I told my mom on the phone....adoption kind of feels like a kidnapping.  Perhaps that seems a little extreme, but it's the truth.  In our house there is lots of talk about birthmoms, other moms, other dads, 'I have two mommies and two daddies', last families, caregivers, orphanages.....  You get the picture.  These four oldest children of ours?  They all have at least two daddies and two mommies.  They all have other families.  They all have a past that we were not a part of.

And they all live with that past every single day.

It's not fun.  It's not pretty.  There's lots of heartache.  There's lots of not-sleeping.  There's piles of emotional shut-downs.  There's huge distrust.  There's BIG feelings that we have never gotten to the bottom of. 

But in my heart, I know that this is the family that God had planned for us.  We're a bunch of misfit ragamuffins.  We're living proof that God uses even ordinary people to do His Work. 

We fail.  Daily.  Hourly.  Minutely (is that a word?).  We cry.  We say we simply cannot do this for another minute.  This pain is too much.  I can't comprehend it.  I don't even want to comprehend it most days.  We lose our tempers and have to apologize.

The beautiful thing with our four oldest?  They all have common issues.  They all have lost families...some of them more than one family.  They all have been abused, neglected, abandoned.  They all FEEL the same feelings. 

I can't comprehend.  I can't understand cause I have never been there.  I cannot imagine in my wildest dreams how it must feel to lose a family and have to try to join in another.

But our children understand each other. 

And that is beautiful.

That, my friends, is the classic ramblings of an extra tired mom of five children.  I trust it made one iota of sense. 

Thank you for your prayers.  The past week has gone much, much better than expected, but we're bracing ourselves for the pain to break loose.