Today, I got a little epiphany on unconditional love. I was thinking about Seth and some of the ways we see damage from his first six years and wondering when he'd be "healed" from it. It's been two years, for goodness sakes, right? He should be over this, right? In some ways, he is. He's made huge gains. But he is most definitely not the little boy he would have been had he been born into our home. And that makes me mad. And desperate to help him, to heal him. And then it occured to me that this takes more than one year, or two years, or even three or four. This is a lifetime. It could take him a lifetime to overcome. And he may not overcome completely in this life. That's the reality of adoption and raising kids coming from trauma. I didn't get that. I honestly thought I was just getting a playmate for my boys, and that he'd be a little delayed but would catch up and fall into step. I underestimated the damage of life spent in a playpen in isolation. I didn't understand what he had missed out on and how that would change his brain. The fact that he's non verbal, even though he is physically able to speak. The fact that he still rocks, two years later. The fact that he has callouses along his spine (too much time on his back) and on two fingers (from yrs spent sucking on his fingers). The fact that he didn't know how to give a kiss or a hug, and that even though he gladly receives them now, he's still very reluctant to give them. The fact that he is very smart but has such delayed social skills. It screams of isolation, of a very lonely life. So here's my epiphany: when you adopt a child, you enter into their world, their neglect. You agree to take them, as they are, with whatever baggage they bring to the table. And believe me, there will be baggage, regardless of age or where they came from. And you love them from wherever they are. Not in the hopes of "healing" them so they'll be "normal", but because they are a human being who deserve better. And you pour into them every day, every hour. You fill their empty spots. As many as you can. And you pray. And you hold your breath. And you watch miracles happen. And they will happen. Every day. In little ways. You do this not because you want an emotionally well adjusted, successful, thriving child, but because this hurting, neglected, sad, depleted child needs what you have- a family. It's not a race to "normal" or "typical". He has a whole lot of trauma. He has a right to move through that at whatever pace he sets. I need to quit watching for the finish line and instead, enjoy this journey that is absolutely breathtaking and inspiring and beautiful.
- Comment from Chris N Brooke: We are taught to do as Jesus did, to follow Him. In adoption, I am persuaded that we do just that. Just as Christ took on our transgressions, our every sin, and bore our burden, we take on the burdens, the sins that have changed our children. We carry that cross with them and sometimes for them. We learn a little of what our Savior has done for us, and we learn what He meant when he looked to the joy set before Him when He endured the cross. We have partnered with God, whether we realize it or not. We partner with Him not because we are righteous and Holy but because He is. He chooses to work through the vessels of moms and dads, and the "least of these" become sons and daughters, they become loved children of God because a few people dared to step out and trust that He came that we may have Life and have it to the full. I can't wait to get our 5 children home. I will forget what I've just written from time to time because I'm certain it will be hard. We have adopted once domestically, and it was difficult. We have fostered, and it was difficult. So, I'm certain this too will be difficult. I'm certain I can't really imagine what is to come. But, I'm holding to the words that it is "worth it, but hard," that Christ came to give us life to the full, that all things work to the good of those who love Him. May God be glorified as we love love our children, His children. Lusherfamily.weebly.com