Haunted

I am haunted by a child.
He was mine and now he is not.
I need to find him.

And here is the story . . .

Back in 2002, my husband and I had two precious children, ages 6 and 8.  We felt very stable in our lives and ready to explore adding to our family.

I found out that a place called Falcon Children's Home had a "visiting resource" program and I called them to investigate.  As a visiting resource, my husband and I submitted to background checks, filled out an application and then were given the privilege of meeting the children at Falcon to decide who we would like to host for weekends and holidays.

We went to the home on a warm summer day in 2002.  I asked the house mother which children were still in need of a visiting resource.
The girls were all claimed.
The white kids were mostly claimed.
The boys were chosen last.
The African American boys were chosen absolutely, positively last.

And then I saw Jaquan.  He was a tiny, thin boy with a beautiful smile and in desperate need of some lotion.  I asked if he had a resource family, already knowing the answer.

He sat next to us on a wooden bench and shyly answered our questions.  I asked if he would like to visit our house sometime and play with our children.  He nodded almost imperceptibly.

But that's all it took. . .

The following weekend we picked him up and within moments of arriving home, he was on the trampoline with my two children wrestling and yelling.
He was obedient and precious and charming.
By the second weekend, I was clipping his toenails and learning how to do something with his hair and kissing him as much as he would let me. 

And then it happened.  When we took him back to Falcon after his second visit, he called us on the phone within an hour.  He was crying . . .
                         "I want to stay with y'all"

My heart physically hurt.   Because I wanted that, too.  So much.

We brought him to our home for every holiday and weekend we could for the next seven months. We took him on a trip to Virginia Beach with us. We took him camping and let him chop things up with a hatchet.

And then his social worker called.   The state was willing to split this child up from his twelve-year-old brother if we wanted to adopt him. His brother had been in trouble. I saw no problem with splitting up these final two siblings who were part of an even larger group of siblings.

But my husband did.   So we had to say "no".

Within two weeks, the social worker called to let us know a family in Charlotte NC was interested in both boys.  They were an African-American family.  They had older children. They were better for these brothers.  The boys could stay together. What right did this white lady have to split up siblings and take a child from his "culture"?  

So I called Falcon to bring Jaquan to us one more time.
I asked him if he knew about anything exciting that was going to happen to him and he replied,
                      "I have to get adopted"  with a sad face. 
 I made him a life book of all the fun things we had done together as a family.  I wrote "I love you" on every page.  I put our phone number and address inside just in case . . . 

And now, he is 18 years old.  I have waited all these years to reach out to somebody else's son.
                                            Because he changed our lives.

My hope and prayer is that he has had a wonderful life.
I have found his birthmother's obituary online.
Mugshots of two of his siblings.
But no obituary and no mug shots for this precious boy.

I just want him to know that he taught me that being a mother has nothing much to do with bloodlines or race or geographic location.

I'd like to tell him that he showed me that foster care was not the place for us.  We are not good
"giver backers".

I hope he knows he has been prayed for regularly for ten years and that I have wondered a million times if we should have kept him and let big brother (one of the mug shots) go.

Finally, I pray he was not hurt in any way by the short-term, non-permanent, time in our home. It must have been confusing for such a young boy.

He was a brother, a son, a beloved treasure . . . for not nearly long enough.

I pray this blog post finds it's way to someone who knows someone who knows someone . . .
who will tell him. 

Look What You've Done!

Just a short time ago, the director of The Bartimaeus Project and his wife were in The Philippines.

They were able to check up on a few of the children being served by The Bartimaeus Project and I'd like to give you a little glimpse into just how those sweet babies are doing today!

I'm sure you'll remember our friend "F" who was being evaluated for extropia and suspected congenital glaucoma . . .

Here is "F" on Evaluation Day back in December 2012 when he was being evaluated for services through The Bartimaeus Project

And although I haven't figured out just how to rotate this brand new photo of "F", you can clearly see the improvement in his condition after just a few weeks of a patching regimen and, so far, no surgery!  The Project will keep watch on this little one with regular check ups and make sure his care home has all the resources they need to sustain this progress.

And there's no doubt that our readers remember little "Ella". The outpouring of questions about her (and offers to adopt her) have astounded us!  She is deaf and in need of hearing aids. We shared her need and within a VERY short time, God pricked the hearts of several women to ban together and provide . . . 

......HEARING AIDS!!!!!!! She is holding the box in her hands that went from a sweet friend in North Carolina to me (at a mom's night out in a restaurant) to Pennsylvania, into a suitcase headed to Manila and into her precious little hands! How's that for God using the "natural" to do amazing works??? This child's life has been changed - the complete trajectory moved- by these simple acts of obedience on the part of some Mamas who love Him and love children! Something tells me this little one won't be an orphan for much longer!!!

Here is an updated shot of our sweet girlie with the cysts/tumors on her eyes.  Even with Reece's Peanut Butter Cup on her face, she is beyond adorable!  She is in the process of receiving a second opinion on whether surgery is the best option for her condition.  She is receiving great care in her care home, medications and, most importantly being shown the love of Jesus by a very dedicated staff.   We look forward to tracking her progress on her journey toward restored vision and know that God has BIG plans for this little one!

Our family longs to make the leap to living among these children and the many many like them, who need someone to shine a spotlight on their darkening vision!

Thank you to all of our donors and sponsors for making this follow-up trip possible. . . for helping us put hearing aids in the hands of that beauty and patches on the eyes of that handsome young man. . . for allowing us to see, face to face, the little chocolate-covered miracle who we will do all we can to assist!    Without your giving, we simply can't go.

If you are considering investing in the lives of these precious ones, and others like them who wait, please make a tax-deductible gift to The Bartimaeus Project ( HERE ) and equip us to serve more children. 

And if you are willing to dedicate a few minutes to praying for The Bartimaeus Project, here are some specific ways we would love for you to pray:
1. That our grant applications are met with favor . . . quickly!
2. That God leads us to the children who need us the most and gives us wisdom and strength to
    meet their needs while sharing the good news of Jesus Christ
3. For doors to open with doctors in The Philippines who are skilled in pediatric visual issues
4. For our family's relocation to The Philippines to be in His timing
5. For God to send workers to join us on short-term mission trips and help us carry the load

Thank you! For giving. For praying. For sharing. For caring about children you are not obligated to care for.  

For HIS Great Fame,
Nikki

Mercy is Spoken Here

Let me get one thing straight.

I NEVER intended for this blog to become a "RAD blog".   I had no plans to be the author of one of the most widely-circulated
adoption disruption stories on the internet.  www.bringinghomezeke.blogspot.com/2011/02/adoption-disruption-down-and-dirty.html


This is NOT the type of notoriety an adoptive mother longs for when bringing a beautiful new child into her family.


I simply shared my son's agonizing story and it resonated with more than 50,000 readers.  I poured out my heart in that post for catharsis but primarily because I had turned over every stone online and in the professional world of adoption-focused literature looking for help in the painful choice of whether or not to disrupt this child's entire world for a for a fourth time and all I found was ridicule and
criticism.

I read articles regarding disruption and the comments under the articles scared the confidence right out of me.
". . . treating a child like a pet . . . "
" . . . what if he were biological? You can't give him back them . . . "
" . . . should never have been allowed to adopt in the first place . . . "
" . . . should have ALL her children taken away . . . "
" . . . should be put in prison for abandonment . . . "

And I knew some of YOU must have been in that same desperate place hoping to find some kinship after that Reactive Attachment Disorder diagnosis darkened your world.

No warm, safe place existed for a family struggling with whether or not to disrupt a failing adoption.  No listening ears and sympathetic hearts were available to the mother who simply could not spend one more night sleeping with all her children in her master bedroom except THAT ONE and the door locked for fear that he might come in and harm them.   No gentle encouragement for the couple who's marriage is in tatters because THAT CHILD has triangulated them in the worst way possible and they blame one another all the way to court while the child sits, satisfied, on the sidelines and enjoys the show.  And he is not to blame. He is broken from the inside.

I wanted to be that place.  And after I hit "publish" on that article in February of 2011, I had no idea how my world would change.

You came, meekly at first, asking me if it was okay to email privately about your children.  You broke my heart and drove me to my knees before God with your stories.  I prayed for you.  I wept for you and I wept for your broken children.  You trusted me, a virtual stranger, with sacred parts of your hearts because there was not one other place in your life where it was okay to talk about how you really felt about that child you adopted.   Your in-laws had already said "I told you so" one too many times. Your church friends told you over and over how "lucky" you are and how "cute" he is and you wanted to shout "I CAN'T STAND HIM" and run from the building. . . I get that.

And I want to say "thank you" . . . to every Mama who wrote me a private note and thanked me for the risk of my post.  THANK YOU to every person too afraid to sign an email in which you bore your soul and asked for help.  Jesus knows every intimate detail, Anonymous Mom. . . He cares and He loves your family, even when it doesn't feel like it.
 I took a gamble that talking about "the 'D' word might just fill a niche left open by everyone too afraid to mention it.
"You've never thought of disrupting your adoption? Yeah, me neither  . . .just thought I'd ask . . .crazy question . . . I must be tired"


And if you followed my precious son's story, you already know that our gracious, good, kind Heavenly Father brought healing after six years of brokenness and acting out by our boy.   I would love to promise you that if you can just hang in there for six years, your child will receive healing, too.

But it doesn't work that way.  Some children are healed and some stay broken. In THIS life.

For those of you reading this who have seen great improvement in your children, I am BLESSED to hear those stories, too.
Remember to show mercy to those Mamas who are still in the throes . . .

For those who are still trudging along the painful path of RAD,  waking up in the morning wishing it was bed time already, you have my ear, my heart and my deep gratitude.  You are still walking, even if you feel dragged, you're doing it . . .

For those who have chosen to disrupt and are living with the pain of wondering if that child hates you, remembers you, understands that you did your best . . .for YOU I pray the most often.   The Enemy loves to accuse you, doesn't he?
But our son CAME to us from a Mama just like YOU . . . from a family that wanted so much to help him but became paralyzed by his gigantic needs.   A family that wanted to make the world a better place and give an orphan a home but got swallowed by his pain and anger and needed an escape hatch.  I have to believe someone, somewhere wants to thank you for giving them their miracle.

I thank both of my son's disrupted families here and now.   I know you read this.  Thank you "M" and "E" and  your families.
I pray you have no guilt about the life of this boy.
He is one of my my treasures!
He was worth those six years . . . and then some.
It took a long time to be able to say that with such certainty but I say it now.
He is a prize.   He belongs here, with us. He is ONE OF US.  He is mine . . .
He just took the long road...

Saying Goodbye

Oldest Son's 16th Birthday (2 years ago)

As we continue to make our preparations for moving to The Philippines, I can feel something strange and a little sad happening.  A shift in my thinking. 

I consider how old and ragged my couch  is looking.  I think "there's no need to replace it. We won't be here . . ."

I consider my daughter and second-oldest son's high school graduations and then catch myself . . . "oh, they'll be in The Philippines then."   And I feel sad and happy . . . the word "sappy" was created just for thoughts like these.

We have been blessed with tremendous friends and family here in the good old US of A . . . and I can't think about the void that will be left in my heart when I have to consider the time difference, the reliability of my internet and the cost when I want to reach out and touch someone.

But even more than my own sad and weird feelings, I am sad for my children.  THEY have made some wonderful friends, too.

Thanksgiving at Our House

Our boys with Two Great Friends at the Beach

Kyky's birthday with his favorite friends

Lunch With Family and Daughter's Close Friend

 Leaving family makes things doubly hard although I know there are airplanes and we will need to see them just as much as they will need us.  Of this, I am certain.

"MY side" at Oldest Son's Graduation Party

Uncle Jr with our sweet Angel Baby 

There is also a giddy thought that keeps my heart full of joy even though we leave so many behind.
It is the off chance, just the possibility, that after so many years of praying for Lemuel's oldest biological brother and writing so many senators( and even the President )to try to bring him to the US  and no one could help because immigration law does not allow for a young man of his age to be adopted, it might just happen in the most unexpected way . . . we will come to him.

And even at almost 22 years old, with many  there who love and care for him already, he has room for eight more people in his life.  Maybe, despite the many he has called "Mom", he would be willing to say that to this white lady who has sent him boxes and skyped with him over the years but never been able to visit in person. 
This young man has never left my heart and always has been in my prayers.   I think of his hard work just to speak some English to his little brother when they skype. And how he sang "Who Am I" by Casting Crowns to us over skype the first time we talked . . . and I felt like a ninny because it made me cry.    And every time it seemed time to end the skype, Ariel would say "Lem, Lem" and I could visibly see him trying to think of something more to talk about so they could have a little more time .

And when I pray for him now,  I refer to him as my "one", thinking of the parable of leaving the 99 sheep for the "one that was lost".  Even though he isn't lost, we know right where he is and who is watching over him, it seems he has been without blood relatives for far too long.  And we have his blood brother right here.  Seems simple enough . . .

As if adding another son to this full and blessed quiver wasn't enough, there's the ministry we get to do. We will have the privilege of going to many different orphanages to do play therapy and screening with visually impaired orphans.  We get the chance to put our hands on these fatherless boys and girls and tell them how precious they are!  We can build relationship with these children and, Lord willing, help them find their families.  Most importantly, we will be able to tell them about their Heavenly Father, who made them and loves them and has a plan for each one of them.

So focusing on Ariel and focusing on the children, I think I can do this "goodbye" thing. 
I know it won't be easy on any of us but I also know that Ephesians tells me I serve a God who does "immeasurably more than we ask or imagine" . . . so much more . . . and if those things I am imagining are THIS great, I look forward to seeing what the "MORE" will look like!

It's not quite time for official goodbyes yet but I feel the shift. The time is drawing near.
I have never had to trust so much in my life.  But our faithful Father is paving the way and
turning our hearts toward The Philippines in new ways.

And we wait . . . and expect . . . and follow . . .

It's a New Thing!

For those who have been long-time readers (or started reading with Adoption Disruption: the Down and Dirty), I just wanted to offer a quick update for encouragement.

What I feared most since posting my "Cautious Corner Turning" and "More of This" has happened. Our son got into trouble for being deceptive last night. It was a minor infraction. He turned a TV show while two little brothers were in the middle of it and he took the remote with him to the restroom so they could not turn it back.

It was selfish. It was sneaky.

My heart sank when little brother came and tattled.

I HAD to confront the behavior and I prayed it would not end up in a lie or crying jag. That is the normal pattern. As predictable as a Twilight book, as regular as the phases of the moon . . .

But the cycle broke.

He hung his head, apologized, admitted it was wrong, unkind and selfish WITH NO PROMPTING and he returned the remote to little brother and subjected himself willingly to "Penguins of Madagascar".

There was sincerity in the air! It smells like lilacs and Reece's cups (ha ha).

I asked him to come talk to me and I told him I was NOT proud of the remote sneaking and channel changing but I was OVERLY proud of him taking responsibility and making it right when confronted. He wrapped me in a giant big-kid hug and just said "thank you".

I KNEW he would mess up eventually. Everyone does. Me. You. Everyone but Jesus.
What I didn't know was if the mess up would result in the ugly patterns of RAD coming back with a vengeance. It didn't! I praise the Lord. I love that he can mess up in a relatively normal way and humbly take correction. That is a skill that will serve him so well in life.

Shoot. I could use a little brushing up there myself.

NOBODY over reacted and nobody held a grudge. It was a beautiful mess.
An accidental blessing.

Lord, You are good! You heal. You restore. Even when we're faithless, YOU are faithful! I can't waste my time wishing we had gotten here five and half years ago.

Regret is futile and we're here NOW.

So glad I didn't miss it. So, so glad . . .

Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

Facebook.
I'm on it. Three of my teens are on it.
Hubby's there, too. My parents, siblings, extended family members and over 900 other "friends" share words of wisdom, funny animal clips, political rhetoric, prayer requests and sometimes off-color humor with me via a little wonder called "my news feed".

I am considering deleting my account.
I don't type this as some do, expecting throngs of people to beg me stay, stating how deeply they will miss me. I am really toying with the idea of saying "goodbye" to facebook forever.

And it's not because it's so time consuming.
It used to be but back when it was so time consuming, I was not willing to let it go.
I don't use it as often as I used to. It's getting kind of boring, actually, but that's not why I'm thinking of leaving.

I'm thinking of leaving because, as the presidential election draws near, I find myself getting truly angry at many of the hateful, ill-informed posts my "friends" are sharing about the candidates I support. I'm conservative. That draws fire.
I'm 100% pro-life (yes, in cases of rape and incest. . .YES! Two wrongs don't make a right, people!). I do not think homosexual Americans should be granted the right to legally marry each other. I don't think they should be bullied, harassed, mistreated, fired from jobs or scorned either. It is a slippery slope we should avoid.
But holding conservative beliefs and reading these statuses, updates and arguments is so very frustrating. I'm not interested in getting into a public political debate on facebook. And it's NOT because I can't hold my own. Ask anyone who knows me in real life. I'm not afraid to stand up for what I believe in. I'm NOT willing to go back and forth on Facebook to the tune of 200 comments in a thread.
It is the very definition of "fruitless".
But sometimes, I love my facebook. We have been prayed for and been able to pray for others. I have literally watched families formed through adoption via the window of facebook.
I get to see my California relatives and my siblings' kids anytime I want thanks to facebook.
I get to see if my high school friends look older than I do (ha ha) and if their kids are cuter than mine (not a chance!).
But I've also been remiss in "friending" people that are not really friends. I have had to get out my high school yearbook or troll through the "mutual friends" of other people to see if I even know them before accepting their friend requests.
It's not my high level of popularity. I think it's my memory!

Of course, I'm being a little facetious here but I am probably going to delete the account and not just say "I'm leaving" and then leave the account open to see who really cares (you know, kind of like that dream of attending your own funeral to see who cries . . . oh . . .that's not something everyone dreams? Never mind).I

I wonder, bloggy buddies, have any of you deleted facebook after being a long-time user? Did you get that edgy, itchy-under-the-skin feeling that accompanies giving up caffeine (or crack)?

Did you make your children delete, too? Since you aren't there to watch their interactions?

That's definitely a sticking point for me.
Maybe I'll stay . . .nah, I'll go . . oh, heck . . .I think I'll sleep on it.

G'night!

Gotta go see if the cheerleading captain has gained weight lately!!!!!

I Just Can't Do It All!!!!!

I am sorry. I am ashamed of myself. I am in over my head by at least a mile! While riding in the car with my family yesterday, it dawned on me that a friend reached out to me with a bitterly distressed email and I NEVER ANSWERED HER! I read her plea for prayers and knew how hard it must have been for her to pour her heart out to me and I NEVER REPLIED! I am horrified! I vividly remember thinking after reading her note that I needed to give it the proper time and attention and I would respond when I had a little more time to pray and think.
I am not a blackberry user and from within my Astro Van, I had no way of rectifying this situation. I worried the whole way home from our family trip to the fair.
After our family outing, I headed into the house to first apologize to and then reply to my hurting friend. It was then that I noticed the message light on the answering machine blinking. I hit the button and listened to three new and four old messages. Two of the old messages were from people who needed my attention promptly. If two days later qualifies as "promptly", I guessed I was still in the clear. But it doesn't.
I decided to do damage control regarding those messages later and to attend to my friend's email. When I pulled up my email account, I noticed seven new people are "following my boards on Pinterest". . . . I have only been on Pinterest once and I couldn't exactly get the hang of it. I felt guilty that I needed to either delete my Pinterest account or snazz it up and make it worth following.
My sweet 11 year old niece has tried to skype with me at least a dozen times in the last two weeks. She leaves me the cutest notes on my skype account, complete with little hearts and kisses. I love her. I want to talk to her but I can't seem to milk five minutes from my crazy life to do that.
I am writing this blog post for two reasons. First, to ask for forgiveness publicly from those I have unwittingly (or maybe "wittingly") ignored lately. Second, to tell those family members who have made comments about my needing to "stop biting off more than I can chew" that you are sort of right but a little wrong as well.
We're still in a state of transition and I am trying too soon to jump back into full swing.
As we settle into our "new normal" over here as a family that has gained two children in less than two years, I am still learning. I am learning that everything takes a little longer now than it used to. Everything is on a slightly bigger scale and, as much as I truly love having one on one time with my family members, it is harder to come by as we grow. Amidst trying to do right by my husband and children, serving the Lord in the adoption community and eeking out a tiny bit of time for reading or friends, I have let things slide - some in unforgivable ways. I want to do better but for me, doing better has to mean doing less. My walk with Christ has to come first. If I don't spend time with Him every day - sometimes a LOT of time, I am not the kind of person anyone would share her heart with, in an email or otherwise. Second place goes to my family. Spending time with and taking care of them gives me joy that I have found nowhere else. Having dinner together or playing games (like the big candy hunt we had tonight in lieu of trick or treating) is always restful for my spirit, even when it's noisy and chaotic in my home. Third is the ministry God has given me. The ministry that makes my heart go "thump thump" is anything related to adoption - from praying over files of waiting children to talking to families struggling with a tough placement. I am truly charged up and revived in that role! All the rest, when I can find time for it, is icing on the big, messy cake that my life has turned into.
I have come to realize that "catching up on things" may never happen. I may just have to "start over" with better priorities and pray that anyone I have offended by not being available will show me some grace. So, I erased the answering machine, deleted my Pinterest account, left my niece a message on HER skype wall and canceled a meeting I was supposed to facilitate.
I'm all done overestimating my importance. The world still turns without my direct involvement and that is such a freeing revelation. I can say it loud and proud . . . . . I JUST CAN'T DO IT ALL . . . and I was never meant to.

But Who's Counting?

I want to tell you a little bit about one of my best friends. Those of you who know me in "real life" probably know her, too. Her name is Thea and she and her husband have nine beautiful biological children with another on the way! Thea helped me lay down my fear of having a large family just by letting me get to know hers - the good, the bad and the messy (ha ha)- she reminds me often that God decides who comes to our table and HIS decisions are always right . . . I need to hear that from time to time.
Recently Thea and Steve read the book "Radical" by David Platt. She and I spent many hours talking about our own lives and ways that we might live more radically for Jesus. Thea has had a heart for adoption for a long time but her calling became even more clear through study of God's word and His mandate for us to truly abandon ourselves to Him . . .no matter how "far out" his path for our lives may look to the rest of the world. So, as crazy as it seems, God called this VERY large family to grow even larger through the miracle of adoption. After much prayer and soul searching, the family decided to request a match with two beautiful brothers from Ethiopia! They ARE beautiful, too. I've seen pictures and video that make me wish I had seen them first . . . but, no, they are destined to be Thea's and the Lord has made it plain.
The family is in the throes of raising money for their adoption. Their precious children have made some incredible stationary and survival bracelets (long pieces of rope that are braided into pretty bracelets but can be unwound and used to save you if you find yourself in a "Bear Grylls" situation sans the years of training).
You can check the bracelets out at www.fromgodstummy.blogspot.com
It's a truly novel idea. I'm getting a purple one!
Another way you can help this family is to come to our local Chic-fil-a restaurant at Cary Towne Center on October 25th from 5-8pm, order some dinner and tell the cashier that you are there to support the adoption fundraiser. Chic-fil-a will donate 20% of your meal purchase price to the family's adoption fund. We had this very same fund raiser for Francis' adoption and it was SO much fun and so very successful!!!!
Finally, the most tangible way you can help my friends is to pray for them. During the adoption process, families tend to face grueling spiritual attacks. There is money stress, extended family's dissension, doubt of hearing God's calling correctly . . oh, you name it! Adoption is hard and wonderful at the same time. Please pray that my friends have a lot more "wonderful" than "hard".

Eight Days And Counting

Eight days . . . that is how long it's been since our 13 year old told a lie, got into a little trouble and stopped speaking to us! I realize this post is going to sound flat out wacky to friends who have not adopted a wounded child AND to those who know how strict we are. Some of you may be scratching your heads and wondering how in the world we have allowed a child to shun us for eight days. Hang with me . . .
For the five years since our 4th oldest has come into the family, we have entered a cycle in which he lies (pathologically), we discipline (through grounding or other consequences that speak to the infraction), he cries hysterically for upwards of an hour and then gives us the "silent treatment" for days at a time. We have tried many methods to cope with this vicious cycle and have not found a way to break this pattern. We can not, as responsible parents, allow him to lie to us without addressing it. He can not, for some unknown reason, be confronted on a lie without spiraling into a crying jag. It is one of life's great mysteries - like Stonehenge or crop circles.
In days gone by, I made sure to put a swift end to his silent treatment by going to him and MAKING him talk it out. I would tell him how much we love him, pray with him, hug him, etc. Sometimes I would even go as far as to take responsibility for the silent time by telling him that I, as the adult, should come to him and make sure our relationship was good after any discipline is meted out. He always acquiesced and things would get back to "normal". This last EVENT hit me right in the heart and my husband and I both became as fed up as we have ever been with the "silent treatment". This young man is hurtling toward 14 years old and he has no idea how to "do" relationships. He is all take and no give. We decided this time around that we are not pursuing him. HE told the lie. HE chose to throw a two hour tantrum in his room and HE needs to "man up" and fix the mess he made with his silent treatment.
I told him so.
I marched into his room after waiting FOUR DAYS for him to start talking to/hanging out with the family again. I let him know that he created this chasm with his attitude and he needed to figure out how to fix it. He said "okay" and proceeded to continue on in silence.
He comes quickly when called to dinner, mind you. He is all too happy to accept rides home from football practice with us. He had no problem ordering off the menu at our recent family dinner out or washing his sweaty football clothes in our washer. He just doesn't want to talk to us.
His pride is killing the relationship between himself and the rest of us.
I have come close, on several occasions, to slipping back into the old habit of having a nice long talk with him and spoon feeding him his repentance. But I can't.
I feel so strongly in my spirit that this NEEDS to come from him. It's okay if it sounds like bumbling. It can be off the mark. It can be out of left field and not really address the problem but it needs to be HIS effort to mend HIS mistakes.
"Why now?"
He is becoming a man. He is handsome and athletic. Girls are stupid around him. Although our family does not condone dating in the teen years (we're a "courtship only" operation), he is under our roof less than the other children as our only public school student. He will have the opportunity to reject our teaching and "date" if he can keep it under wraps. His lying is going to deeply wound some unsuspecting young lady. She will not be so gracious as to chase him down and hand feed him an apology. He MUST learn to mend fences.
He craves friendships with other young men but as a person with no ability to admit his mistakes and genuinely ask for forgiveness, he risks extreme loneliness in the years ahead. He has to acquire the skill of humbly seeking restoration.
He hopes to join the military someday. The ability to accept correction WITHOUT the silent treatment following that correction is crucial. A commanding officer is not going to allow him to stare blankly because he's "mad". The discipline will be sure and swift in this environment and his "hurt feelings" aren't going to amount to a hill of beans in the REAL WORLD.
I can not bend on this one. I can not go to him and fix his mess.
It would be most unloving for me to, once again, show him how to "undo" what he's done.
I could have stopped this snowball of silence on day one by walking right up to him and telling him how ridiculous and disrespectful his behavior is. He would have WELCOMED that contact, as he has in the past, and been grateful for that springboard from which to re initiate communication.
He is waiting for it. I can tell. Even though I told him it was up to him to figure out how to fix this, he is holding out hope that I will miss him so much I'll come and sit on the edge of his bed and start the ball rolling... again.
I won't.
Ever again.
Starting now, I am free from keeping him from feeling the true effects of his actions.
This is a game of "chicken" and I am not flinching. I want to but I won't.
This is the ugly side of older/wounded child adoption. These things that happen in our home are things I would have NEVER allowed back in the day when I knew everything about parenting. . . back when a friend once told me that spanking didn't work with her son and I replied, full of an obnoxious amount of confidence, that she just wasn't doing it hard enough. Back when I had two perfect children, one boy and one girl, and I had "Ezzo-ed" them into little Pharisees, I would have criticized a mom like me for being such a wuss. I would have blamed her for letting a 13 year old have too much power and I would not have been her friend. She would have sickened me.
But that was then. I am much stupider now and those black and white parenting issues sometimes muddle into a gray pool of mush. Every behavior infraction isn't a "sin" and I'm not a meaner version of Jesus - doling out justice but never mercy.
I am feeling my way along the cave wall in the dark and praying that the voice I hear is who I think it to be and not an imposter, giving bum advice on how to deal with this difficult child.
I still, five years into this adoption, have NO idea why God did not give that young man to a more experienced family. Why he did not go someplace where he would be the center of someone's universe instead of such a fringe character in a scenario with parents who still have so much to learn.
Right now, he sleeps under his Pottery Barn Kids comforter with the surfer emblazoned on it. He has his first football game tomorrow where he will play second string. I KNOW he wanted to talk about the game with us today several times but he would not allow himself. He bit back the excitement and stoically trudged along beside us. I know him. He is nervous and excited. He usually chatters incessantly when he's like that but not this time.
I don't know how long he can hold out. We invited him to come watch a DVD with us a few nights ago and he said "okay" and then never came out of his room. He is acting like the offended party rather than the OFFENDER.
I want to shake him and hug him all at once. I think the "shaking" thing is looking more attractive than the "hugging", in all honesty.
It is my prayer that tomorrow, in the morning, as I wake him up for school, he will decide to tear down the wall of silence he has built and humble himself.
If not, I'll do what I do worst . . .wait.

THE Power of the Zipper

I wore THOSE pants to church on Sunday. You know . . . we all have worn them at least once . . .the pants that randomly unzip fast and hard as soon as you sit down. I forgot I even HAD those pants and by the time I realized it was THEM, I was sitting down in a van full of people and running ten minutes late. I had to keep them on. I worked in the nursery, always bending at the waist and never squatting, for an hour. I kept my Bible on my lap during service and re-zipped while standing for the final prayer. I could not concentrate properly all day for thinking of those PANTS!!!!!
A seemingly small "problem" given the seriousness of world hunger, war in the middle east and the plight of the baby seal but, on that day, it overshadowed every move I made.
After church, my eldest son took his siblings shopping and had a minor confrontation with the two brothers closest in age to him. He had to remind them that he is the Kuya and they need to listen to him. When my children came home from the store, I could FEEL the bad attitude in my home and began to conduct private interviews to get the story. Each child agreed that our eldest had spoken kindly and was simply doing his job. (It appears our newest family member prefers BEING the Kuya to HAVING a Kuya and that was part of the problem- ha ha). The reaction to being corrected by his older brother seemed disproportionate to the situation. It made for a hard, tense afternoon around the old homestead and finally, at 11pm, my husband and I called all three of our oldest into our room for a little heart to heart. Everything is back to "normal" because these are some easily-redirected kids when it comes down to it.
As I laid in bed thinking about the day's events, I wondered why the pants seemed to frustrate me so much and yet I was GLAD the "sibling snit" took place. With those black pants (which are somewhere in a landfill by now, I hope) I was frustrated and sidetracked way MORE than the situation called for (much like our new son felt with our oldest). It feels dramatic and silly now even using the word "situation" when retelling the pants problem!
When I pondered the issue between my teens, I had peace and joy. Suddenly, it dawned on me . . . the squabble with the teens was a bonding event because having a tiff with someone (and then working it out) indicates a level of acceptance and familiarity that is reserved for families and close friends. With strangers, a little irritation can go unmended and feel fine. With guests, you bend over backward to please them and put yourself out without a second thought but with FAMILY, you can "keep it real" and know that it won't end the relationship. I'm ashamed to admit, I say things to my husband that I would never say to anyone who had not signed legal documents committing to me. I can tell my kids when their outfits look ridiculous or they need to brush their teeth better because, they are mine and they know I love and accept them. How many times have you been in conversation with an acquaintance who had . . . um . . .a little something in his nose but you refused to tell him because he'd be embarrassed? I have. With family, forget it! Not only do I tell them, I TEASE them until a state of paranoia sets in that causes them to carry around a hand mirror!!! They would do the same to me. So, although the enemy tried to get a foothold in our family with the sibling issue, the Lord reminded me that He is in charge and even things that seem unpleasant have a purpose. Even the black pants? I guess I needed some humbling so, yes, EVEN THE BLACK PANTS!

FAMILY NEEDED (WELL, TWO FAMILIES, ACTUALLY)

I have recently become aware of two young ladies in The Philippines who are in desperate need of families.
They are not related and will  go two separate placements and THEY ARE BEAUTIFUL!  Both need to be adopted in practicing Christian homes - where a walk with Christ is the focus of the family.
Both girls are around ten years old and understand that they will be adopted.  Aside from being gorgeous, their write ups look very, very good. 
I wish I could post pictures and specifics but the rules of the ICAB prevent me from doing so.  Please log on to our adoption agency web site and take a look at the criteria and fees for Philippine adoptions Christian Adoption Services .    You can also send me an email here  for more information.
Above all, please pray for these girls, that they get the chance to live out their lives as someone's precious daughters. . . that a daddy comes in to offer them protection like only a daddy can . . . that they get a Mama to show them the path to womanhood.   God designed children for families. There's no better place!

Sabotage It Is, Then!

This morning I am awakened bright and early by a phone call from the cottage where Lemuel resides for just three more days before coming home for good.  The staff member is gentle with me as she shares that there has been "an incident" this morning.  Apparently, a stash of candy bars went missing from the cottage. Each client was interviewed separately and each one, including Lemuel, vehemently denied taking the candy.  Less than ten minutes after the denial, a staff member walks by Lemuel's room and notices him vigorously stuffing items into small bag and then stuffing the small bag into a larger bag . . . yeah . . . do I even need to type the end of this story?  No. But for my eternally optimistic friends, I will acquiesce.  The staff member empties the bags and finds said candy. Uneaten. The staff member instructs Lemuel to empty his pockets and finds empty wrappers. Lemuel hangs his head and through chocolatey teeth says "please don't call my mom. She won't want to bring me home."   SIGH . . .
The most fascinating part of this little story is that Lemuel doesn't even LIKE candy.  Here at home, his Halloween or Easter candy can sit for months untouched.  He might eat a little piece now and then but he is NOT a big fan of sugar.
I have read more than once that children with attachment issues often sabotage  any good thing that comes their way.  I have to believe that this completely out of character act is, in truth, an attempt to do just that. I am worried about what he may do between now and Friday.  I am worried that if it isn't an act of sabotage  I now have a thief on my hands - a new side of him to be sure.   Not something that would be easy to contend with in a home where keys, loose change, cell phones and snack foods are in no short supply (have I just issued a collective invitation for every marauder in a 50 mile radius to come a-calling?).
Much of the flowery, fluffy, Spirit-driven resolve I have been feeling the last few days evaporated with that phone call. What came flashing back in to my mind was the way our family has been poured out on this kid for years and the return on that investment?  Not so good.
Does this act of dishonesty change anything?  Not yet.  We still do not feel released to go in any other direction so we stay the course.   It is with a little less wind in our sails but we press on.
To smile, hug and welcome him home with open arms and cheer is going to take an act of God.
It's a good thing HE lives here, too.

The Final Word

I'd like to submit one final post regarding adoption disruption and then, I will have exhausted my entire wealth of knowledge on the subject (ha ha).  Many readers may be familiar with the organization CHASK (Christian Homes and Special Kids).  Chask is a well-respected, God-focused ministry to birth parents and they serve two sectors of the adoption community. First, they help birthmothers who are pregnant with special needs babies. They encourage these moms to choose life for their babies and if the moms are considering adoption, they help match these unborn treasures to families who are open to the particular special need.
I have seen many babies with down syndrome and spina bifida listed on the CHASK site.  Second, the CHASK site offers a venue for parents who are disrupting their adoptions to find new families for their children.  Currently, as I type this post, there are two children from Ukraine and one from China listed on the site.  They are all older children and all have behavioral diagnoses like Reactive Attachment Disorder or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. These children will not be "easy", most likely.
During the worst of our battle with parenting Lemuel, I contacted CHASK and considered placing him there for "rehoming" (a term that makes me bristle because it sounds like it refers to a pet rather than a child). CHASK is wonderful.  If you are a family who has considered disrupting and decided in favor, I encourage you to let CHASK help you.  If you have considered adopting a child from a disruption, please go to their web site and pray about the children currently listed.  www.chask.org .
I check their photolistings daily. I pray for the children featured there and am always thrilled to see how quickly the photos are removed. It seems there are scads of parents who are equipped to handle these difficult children.  I praise the Lord for such families. To knowingly, willingly  walk through what we "accidentally" did garners so much respect from me!  Please investigate CHASK, pray for their volunteers and their waiting children, consider donating to them and sharing their link with others who may benefit.