After an emergency departure in August, I returned from Uganda with our two new sons, Moses and Jonah nine weeks and countless miracles and trials later. We’ve been home for three months and this is the first blog post I’ve written.
Until now, I had no idea what to say. I have been up to my eyeballs, nearly drowning is the demands of two new children (the laundry, oh, the laundry!), attachment and adjustment issues, and the relentless exhaustion that comes with a lack of sleep and a life change this big.
It has been an extremely difficult journey — much harder than I expected. And, it has also miraculous beyond words. It has required more of me than I could have prepared for. I am certain it is God’s mercy and grace that have sustained us.The moments of joy—all the “firsts,” falling in love with our boys, watching them learn to rest in our love—these moments encourage our hearts and give us strength to believe God will complete the work he has begun in our family.
In the last five months I’ve realized anew that adoption is not a cause, it is a daily commitment. A commitment to run the marathon of healing and redemption alongside the child that God is grafting into your family. (I say grafting because it is a process.) It is also a commitment to let Jesus do his therapeutic work in us too as parents.
Adoption is nothing less than the story of the Gospel set against the stage of one family and a handful of human hearts. It is full of beauty and suffering and heartbreak and joy.
Speaking for myself, I probably watched one too many “gotcha-day videos” when I should have had a few more cups of coffee with adoptive moms in my community and asked, “So, tell me what it’s really like.” The pictures of happy multi-racial families, like the one at the top of this post, don’t tell the whole story. But the stories need to be told—the hard ones and the happy ones.
These days, I am reminded daily that He is the Great Physician, not me. I am made to be a conduit for His healing power, but not the power itself. And when it seems I can’t do even that, when I am so tired and impatient and frustrated that I am ready to give myself a time-out, He covers me.
In the coming months, I hope to share the highs and lows of adoption and motherhood, and all the days in between. I can’t promise regular posts anymore than I can promise my kids that clean, folded clothes will fill their drawers, but I will be here as often as I’m able, telling our story as we learn to walk in faith and love.