Adoption Journey: Part 2

[Click here to read "Adoption Journey: Part 1"]

In July 2013, we got a call from CPS that Philip's sister had relinquished her rights, and a judge had placed 5-month-old Asa with us. 

I wept.

For how heart-breaking and selfless a decision that must have been for her. 
For that precious little boy with all his hurts and healing.
For me. Heart-broken and yet thrilled. Scared and yet determined. 
Silencing selfish thoughts one by one as they attempted to have a voice. 

Shortly after hearing the news, Philip and I headed to Florida with the youth choir.  Riding in the front seats of a church van, we processed together ... asking sideways questions then staring down the road ... wondering when we'd arrive at the answers.

I realized I was battling my own attachment issues ... Whole-hearted, life-long commitment to a child I had yet to hold. 

(Besides the solitary newborn photo with Philip, I didn't even know what he looked like.)

God knew precisely what I needed ... hour upon hour of riding down a highway ... staring straight ahead with road noise and backseat chatter muffling into a strange, loud clarifying silence. 

Adoption Journey: Part 1

Philip & Asa, Feb '13

Wow. A little over two years ago, Philip was out of town watching the boys play baseball, and stopped by to see his younger sister and her newborn baby.

From Aunt & Uncle, to foster parents, to forever Mom and Dad. What an adventure this has been!

At the first of March, 2013, we learned that, at 5 weeks old, Asa was in foster care. I asked my Friday morning small group to pray with me for this child. I remember sensing a strange attachment to the situation ... not knowing what God might ask of me, but begging for His strength to give me courage, and His love to overshadow my selfish fears.

By April, I was growing more certain of our calling to get actively involved. I checked out a STACK of library books on fostering, adoption, high-needs children, prenatal methamphetamine exposure, and abandonment/attachment issues. I knew nothing ... and I could only live with myself in that condition a few moments more.

Common Ground

I am a griper and complainer. I’m sorry. I try hard not to be, but critical commentary seems to just leap off my tongue if I’m not careful. 

But there are a couple topics you will seldom hear me complain about in public. 

At the top of the list is my husband. And here’s why. Out of all the men in the world, I chose him. No one forced me to marry him. I did that all by my big-girl self.  

He’s not perfect, but he’s mine. So when an issue arises, my response matters. Very little is accomplished by verbally dogging him. It might make me feel better in that tiny warped moment, but it certainly doesn’t lead to a solution. 

I must embrace the idea that the solution to our problem likely involves me.
(I mean he totally needs to change his ways, but …)

Thrilling Agony

I don’t know a lot about victory. I’m neither an athlete nor a conqueror. I know about hard work and careful preparation. I have won some awards and there are a few music-related trophies with my name on them. 

But to fight and struggle in order to win … this gives me a rash.

My short list of "successes", includes mostly the things that come naturally and easily to me.

My husband leads a small group of men who LOVE to win! But, he grieves over all the obstacles and snares our culture presents. He is well aware of the temptations John mentions in the Bible: “Lust of the eyes, lust of the flesh, and the boastful pride of life.”

With his best inspirational coaching voice, he has admonished them, “Guys, this is going to be a battle … every, single day of your life … so learn to be victorious today!” 

I know he means to inspire and equip them, but my passive, squeamish ears perceive discouragement when I think about this daily struggle we call ‘life'.

Transformers

Finally, friends,

whatever is true,
I am falling short, but God made me and loves me and hasn't given up on me.

whatever is honorable,
God chose to send His Spirit to live in MY body.

whatever is just,
When I misuse food and neglect my body, there are natural consequences.

whatever is pure,
God designed my body to work hard and be nourished by food.

whatever is lovely,
My identity is in Christ. My soul will always be more important than this body that is wasting away.

Follower

“Abba, Father,” he said, 

“everything is possible for you. 

Take this cup from me. 

Yet not what I will, but what you will.” 
Mark 14:36


What a great model for prayer! Jesus, on the eve of his crucifixion, prays to God the Father.

He affectionately relies on relationship.
“Abba, Father,” he said,