Adoption stories are supposed to be beautiful and perfect, right? They are full of sweet moments and happily-ever-after endings, aren't they?
I used to be afraid to tell the ugly truths about our adoption story. True, there are many beautiful parts to the story: a precious little boy who needed a home, a family who had so much love to give... the list goes on. From the outside looking in, our adoption story looked like a fairy talke.
After we brought our son home, we appeared to everyone around us to be the picture-perfect family. Our son is absolutely beautiful, no doubt. It really seemed to thrill people that he looks just like all the rest of our (biological) kids. People love his big personality and bright smile. They oohed and aahed at how quickly he learned English - still do. And I can't forget to mention how people constantly tell us they think we are so noble for bringing an orphan into our family.
But what if I told you that, before our son came home, there were many days during the seemingly never-ending 2 years of paperwork that I really didn't want to continue? During that time, I often told my husband that we should just forget it and never look back. It makes me cringe to admit it, but it is the truth.
What if I told you that I lived in absolute fear of the financial requirements and strains adoption brings? We are not a family of means, and with 3 kids already, I simply could not see how we would afford it. I completely doubted God on that one.
What if I told you I wanted to yell at God "NO-WAY!" when I discovered our son lived in Siberia and I would have to leave my other 3 children not once, but twice, in order to bring him home? Wow. Leave my children who are safe and loved to bring my other child home who is alone and has no love? Seems like a no-brainer now.
What if I told you there were many times I didn't feel love for the screaming, angry two year-old son we brought home and that I had no idea what to do to help him? I thought I had read all of the books and was well-prepared ahead of time, so this was extremely hard to swallow.
What if I told you I have screamed back at a very small little boy who never deserved that kind of response, all because of my selfishness and childishness? Out of all the truths, this one cuts the deepest into my heart.
What if I told you I have felt a consuming hatred for those who have hurt my son in the past? I have never felt that way about anyone before. I didn't even know I could feel that way.
All of these things are hard to admit, but true. I have not been at all the kind of Christ-follower and mother I originally set out to be.
What if I told you in all of this, there is and always was HOPE.
SOMEONE was always there with me,
HE pushed me to do the things I didn't want to do.
HE is the One who whispered to me, "Your son is out there and he is REAL. Go get him."
HE gave me the courage I didn't have.
HE took care of the financial details. What amazing miracles He did!
HE held my older children safe in His arms - He even enlarged their hearts and gave them a deep love for their baby brother while we were gone.
HE is the one who makes me see Jesus in my son's eyes when I am tired and feel as though I have no more to give him.
HE is the one who has healed my angry heart and has allowed me to see those who have hurt my son as He sees them.
HE is the one who, through all of this, has given me a deep and unbreakable mother-son bond with my son.
GOD has done all of these things - and more.
Yes, there is pain in this journey. My son was left without parents at the very start of his life. That HURTS. I still see glimpses of that hurt even now. People want to trun away from that truth... I wanted to turn away from that truth.
But God can turn pain into healing. He can turn failures into triumph. HE can turn hopelessness into hope.
God does miracles.
And THAT is the truth!