“I think you might have helped me decide not to adopt.”
She was worried that I’d be dismayed at her words, thinking I wanted everyone to adopt. I had just delivered a fairly candid, vulnerable message to a group of women on the topic of adoption. In our conversation afterward, I reassured her of what I’ve long held to be true:
Everyone can do something to help orphans. And I do wish everyone would. I base my opinion on God’s adoption of us into His family (Ephesians 1:5), and the exhortation in James 1:27 that we show pure and blameless religion by looking after orphans (and widows).
My son is adopted.
He spent all but two weeks of his first 21 months in a Russian orphanage.
After more than 10 years at home with us, we still spend time in therapy each week. Most often, we’re trying to work through the issues of abandonment and rejection by his birth mother. My husband and I have tried to portray a woman we don’t know in the most positive light. To assume the best, if you will. We’ve even tried to ascribe some nobility to her actions: “She loved you enough to know she couldn’t take care of you.”
Today’s guest post was written anonymously, giving the writer the freedom to speak openly about post-adoption struggles shared by many whose children endured trauma in their early years. This writer is a close friend, despite many miles between us. I hope you’ll be blessed by her message, as I have been many times through the ministry of her friendship. I applaud her vulnerability and candor here; it is a tender heart that receives your comments.
This post is, at its core, about hope and love, written onto the pages of our lives by God in heaven.
She hates picking up a book.
It’s dyslexia, they said. I don’t disagree, I said. But…
She can barely sit through a television show. Movies are torture for her.