Reality

Once again, a year has passed without a blog post.  Life with 6 kids is busy!  I’ve had a lot on my heart about adoption lately, and I have felt prompted to write a post about some of the realities of adoption.

Let me start right out of the gun by admitting: adoption is HARD.  Yes, there are easy moments: sweet snuggles, “I love yous,” the look of accomplishment when she learns how to read, hearing her sing “Deedus Yuvs Me Diss I know” in the backseat while tears of gratitude stream down your face, or the pride of a 3-year-old when he tells someone, “My daddy police man!” And those are the things people love to see.  People of course love feeling warm and fuzzy and like adoption is just so easy but heroic and that the kids just come into your home and you love them and provide security for them and then they just morph into these sweet little angels who are so grateful for the stability you offer,  and your white picket fence and your 2 dogs and your minivan and the smile on your face and your ‘amazing patience’ must just mean that you are living your “happily ever after.”

But oh, how that’s not the case.  If you don’t want the truth, the soul-baring mess of a heart that is breaking, then don’t read on.  I’m about to get real.  REALLY real.

For every smile I put on away from home, there are multiple times I sprawl out flat on the floor of my bedroom in deep sobs after yet another ‘episode’ with one of our adopted kids.   I never knew it was possible for a 6 1/2 year old to be capable of the level of manipulation that we witness in our home so many times a day.

To have an almost first-grader who uses anywhere but the toilet to go to the bathroom is embarrassing.  Disgusting.  Smelly.  And it honestly makes me angry.

To have a daughter who was the answer to your prayers and you try and try to connect with her heart yet that bond still hasn’t come, is heartbreaking.

To beg Jesus for wisdom and guidance and discernment and all of the character traits needed to parent a child diagnosed with Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD), and to still not feel like you have seen any progress, is humiliating.

To see other children in our home cry over one specific child breaking their special toys, acting aggressively towards them, or constantly cutting them down with her words, is exhausting.

To not find any sort of effective consequence for a child’s behavior is frustrating.  Recently I had taken all 6 kids for ice cream cones and everything was peachy keen until one child began telling another that she was ugly.  I told the offending child that her words were hurtful and unkind and I asked her how she would feel if someone said that about her.  Her response? “I don’t care.”  So I told this 6 1/2 year old that if she used those words again she would lose her ice cream.  Immediately following that, her eyes met mine in the rearview mirror and she proceeded to stare directly at me while repeating her unkind words to her sister.  I literally turned around, grabbed her cone and chucked it out the window of the car.  It didn’t phase her.  No remorse.  No being ‘bummed’ that she lost her cone.  No feelings of empathy towards the child who was crying so hard she couldn’t eat her own cone.  I was at such a loss.

As a woman, everything about me screams, “LOVE THE CHILDREN!  Love them!  Nurture them!  Shepherd them!  Teach them!”  But what if your child has been damaged and broken and though she doesn’t understand it, everything about her behavior says, “I hate you!  I hate this family!  I don’t love you!  I won’t let you in!”  And what if you’ve cried out to God 43,722 times for grace, compassion, healing for your daughter, emotional protection for everyone else in the home, for radical transformation of broken child in front of you, and after 4+ years the days are still so long and the nights feel too short and you just can’t get out of bed to face the reality of the hurt that stares you in the face begging you to fix it though her actions push you away?

And meanwhile you have 5 other babies to tend to and a house that needs cleaning and there is never enough money and you THANK THE LORD that your husband is amazing and scoops you up off of the floor yet again when he finds you and sees that you have no more tears to cry and you call yourself a failure of a mother and he speaks truth….and though he is quiet, FOR A MOMENT that truth penetrates deep into your heart and the lies that have been booming loud seem to dissipate and you wipe your face and head back downstairs to make dinner or fold the laundry or push someone “Higher!” on the swing or help with homework.

And once that day is over you crawl into bed and search for blogs from others who have adopted because there aren’t any friends you know of who have had a child diagnosed with RAD who struggle with similar feelings of failure that you do.  And if you don’t fall asleep reading the blog of a stranger, you open your Bible and read a few verses that encourage you and you know you should spend more time in the Word and less time beating yourself up but sometimes it is all you can do to just put one foot in front of the other to make it through the day with the brokenness of a 6 1/2 year old girl who needs nothing more than complete healing from Jesus.


I love this song by Matt Maher:


                                                        "Lord, I Need You"

Lord, I come, I confess
Bowing here I find my rest
Without You I fall apart
You're the One that guides my heart

Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You

Where sin runs deep Your grace is more
Where grace is found is where You are
And where You are, Lord, I am free
Holiness is Christ in me

Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You

Teach my song to rise to You
When temptation comes my way
And when I cannot stand I'll fall on You
Jesus, You're my hope and stay

Lord, I need You, oh, I need You
Every hour I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You

You're my one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You
My one defense, my righteousness
Oh God, how I need You