Let’s talk about something besides fundraising

I have had numerous people tell me that what I am doing is really “noble.” That bringing a child into a home which can provide adequately to meet their needs is incredibly giving. The truth of the matter is, what I am doing is entirely to fulfill my own selfish-intensions.

I did not seek out to adopt a child to relieve them from their poverty-stricken life, to offer them a new beginning, clothes, food, shelter, or education. I decided to adopt because I am longing to fill a void I have deep within the furrows of my heart. This adoption initially started with me.

"This is probably one of the hardest things I’ve had to deal with in my life. The hardest and yet the most beautiful. As I sit here and type these words my heart still aches for what I don’t have. At least not in my timing. As this journey unfolds I have been broken, devastated, and on my knees. Yet there is beauty in this brokenness, hope in this devastation, and peace in this process. I have learned through this experience that the story God writes is far more splendid than what I could imagine for myself. I’ve also discovered that when He closes a door, there is always an open window."

Let me make clear that what my heart ached for was my own biological child. The beautiful part of this experience is that my heart has opened up to loving another child who is not biologically my own. I view this as a gift.

My adoptive child will be a blessing. A blessing that will meet the longing in my heart. Fill my void. Bless my life. This child will meet my yearning to expand our family. See, this journey started with me.

But there is another side to this equation.

I do not know what it feels like to be adopted. I do not understand how it feels to not look like your family. I do not comprehend the sense of loss a child may feel to not share the same culture as his/her parents and siblings.

When I bring our child home from Ethiopia, I will feel a sense of closure. I will fill a void. I will receive a blessing. For this child however, it may mark the beginning of a potentially life-long struggle to grow up and adjust to what it feels like to always “be different.”

A direct quote from someone who has experienced this struggle first hand:

“For the adoptee, this is the beginning mark of those hurdles. The only real difference here is that those hurdles will never end, as they will for you. This will always hurt forever somewhere in their heart, the indescribable sense of loss, confusion, and emptiness. And I would like nothing more than to ask that you realize this is where you step in. This is where you pick up the broken pieces and you do your best to hold them. This is where you understand nothing in the world will allow you to put the shattered remains back together, because sometimes nothing short of God will fix the damage done.”

Heavy stuff. I must admit I felt rattled when I initially received this email.

The truth is, although there is great joy in this process there is also a great sentiment of sorrow that comes along with adopting. Ethiopia grieves at the loss of a child they do not have the means to care for. The birth family has to make the sacrificing decision to offer a child up for adoption. A child they wish they could provide for. Even “abandoned” children are often times well cared for….. .“abandoned” in safe places, bathed, and dressed, with hair beautifully braided. Somebody loved them.

I can’t imagine making this painful decision. Or what it feels like being part of a Nation that mourns the ability to provide for its children.

I know not all of you who read my blog make claims to faith, or believe in God. I hope you will continue to stay-tuned anyhow. It is important for you to know that I believe God is a huge part of this story, and is the one in control of where it is headed. I am stepping out in faith with this, knowing that God can take brokenness and mold it into something beautiful. He can take wrecked ashes and turn them into something brilliant.

What started with me and my own selfish intentions has molded into something much greater than that. God has held me in my brokenness and turned my ashes into something magnificent. I cling to this knowledge as I move forward with adoption. I pray that my child will feel the same way as he/she grows up.

I don’t know how everything will unfold, but my hope is that I will have a realistic view of the road ahead. I can only hope that my child will feel a sense of security, comfort, and acceptance by everyone they encounter throughout their precious life. The mama bear in me wants to take away any hardships my child will face, but the truth of the matter is; I don’t know what it feels like to be adopted.

One thing I have decided is that my focus will not rest in the sadness that comes along with adopting. I will not center my thoughts on how big this storm ahead may be. Instead, I will show this storm of how big my God is.