6 Weeks As A Family

As a part of our bedtime routine each night, we hold them and give them a bottle. May seem a little unnecessary for an almost 2 and 4 year old … but it’s something we decided to build-in to help with bonding. And it has.

I get a lump in my throat just about every other night as I look in their eyes and think about them being anywhere but here. I know that at some point I will need to deal with the reality of their past…but for right now–beyond praying as God leads us for specific implications of their past on their current lives– it’s not the time. Any parent can relate to shuddering at the thought of their child experiencing abnormal pain. My children have faced more loss (and likely seen more tragedy) in their few years on this earth than I have in 31.

I often wonder if they can understand the transition that’s happening around them. I can honestly say that my kids are two of the happiest children I know. I just have to get on camera the squeals they let out when they hear the garage door opening … signaling daddy’s return from work. Every song is an opportunity for a dance party, and the things we take for granted–like puppy dogs, sprinklers and trees–are like the end of a treasure hunt. As I type, I’m sure this is true for most all kids, but I still wonder if our children’s delight in life is inversely proportional to the depravity they came from.

Overall, the past 6 weeks have felt more like years … in a very rich way. I can’t believe we only just first held them July 10th. God has done something marvelous in both us and them, and it’s as if we never weren’t a family. While I know we will have many bumps ahead and certainly wouldn’t say we’re out of the woods in terms of the initial transition, I also am fairly convinced that God can overcome anything.

There can be a stigma about adoption, as if somehow these children are tainted … forever. The American dream is to have the healthy child and the family-without-issues and adoption seems to fight that gravity. Laced in the conversations about children who are adopted is the assumption that their personalities and character are permanently imprinted and adoptive parents should hope they don’t get a bad one. Better to adopt them younger, people say, as it’s less likely they will have been scarred for life.

As I look at our experience thus far I wouldn’t say it’s been so positive because we got beautiful, healthy, happy children–in fact, our children have medical issues I choose not to go into on this blog. We’ve been on our faces much since they’ve returned asking God to heal remnants of their past which have surfaced in their behavior. But the predominant theme is that there isn’t any hurdle He can’t overcome.

It’s a lie to believe a child — any child — is past the point of redemption.There is no stain He can’t remove.

How big is our God.

Just last week I felt prompted to pray that Eden would grow tall. Her severe malnourishment has left her off the charts in weight and height. At the pool a little boy heard me telling my almost-four-year-old that she needed to share her boat with her brother and he said “Why are you talking to that baby like that? Babies can’t understand things like that.”

By the looks of her you might very well think she is a baby. Yet I believe God is going to make her a sign and a wonder for Him. A representation of His glory. (As if He hasn’t done so already!). And so I have prayed that she would grow tall. Not because I’m afraid of having a short child or a child that doesn’t look normal, but because in the moments I have to engage with God in the midst of my day full of play-dough and building blocks, He has told me to believe He would do the impossible in my children and that the real miracles have only just begun.

I thought bringing them home was the picture of redemption.

Turns out it was only the foreshadowing.