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 . . .

Movin' On Up

Since the "big announcement" of mid April -the fact that our family is posed to hit the mission field in the next six to eight months- so very much has happened. Our excitement has met with mixed reviews. Most of them positive and encouraging. Many of them laced with cautionary tales of forgotten friends who struck out for the mission field only to meet with crippling illness, dangerous criminals or larger-than-life insects! We have had friends who want to partner with us financially (we're not there YET but we'll hit you up when the time comes - ha ha) and have offered to start saving items we can take with us to share with those we will meet along the way. God's people never cease to amaze me with their first-blush reactions to news such as ours. It's no secret we have a large family. Some of our family members have ongoing needs that are well-met here in the States. We have much to weigh and balance. This decision was not made lightly as "impulsive" or "spontaneous" are not adjectives anyone would readily apply to me. Yes, The Philippines has large bugs, diseases that no longer exist in the US, plenty of crime and no Wal Mart! But far outweighing those little annoyances are the beautiful people, the children who need the loving arms of parents around them, the beauty of the landscape, the openness of the culture, and the unreached population we hope to extend a hand to. . . more about them later in the post! In just a couple of days, I am scheduled to speak on the topic of Special Needs Adoption at the Together For Adoption conference in Winston-Salem. I was asked to do this long before the chance at the mission field cropped up. I am awed at how well these two paths converge! The group our family will serve, if God allows us to transplant, is the visually impaired orphan! I expect, as has been the case in every "good thing" we have set out to accomplish, we will end up receiving the blessing much more than those we aim to serve. God has used hearing impairment, Reactive Attachment Disorder, Down Syndrome and advanced age at the time of placement to remind us that we can not do any seemingly selfless deed without being swept away in a tide of His blessings. In light of what we have experienced, we go overseas a little selfishly. We know the blessing the Lord lavishes on us when we try to serve Him. It's a "secret" the apostle Paul discussed so many times in His letters to fellow Believers.

"What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ" Phil. 3:8

Galatians 6:9 And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.

Ephesians 2:10 For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.


It's seems so close at times, I wake up in the morning and feel like I am THERE instead of HERE. Other times, I look around at all the "stuff" we have to sell, pack, get rid of, do, change, cancel, paint, repair and consider before we can be free of this life and I get weary. God is going to have to do so much in preparation for our family to go and yet, it seems He has already begun, starting with the positive reaction from ALL of our children to the announcement! That was not something we expected and clearly falls under the "more than we ask or imagine" category!! Certain children of ours tend to lean toward the melodramatic and can, at times, be just a teeny tad smidge self-focused. Well, shut my mouth . . . everyone is on board!!!!!!


I close this little jaunt down the bunny trail with a special "PRAY FOR US" as the time clock tics, so many pieces of the puzzle must fall into place and only The Great Commissioner can bring the longings of our heart to a full-fledged, sustainable missionary life. More than we ask or imagine . . .

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 . . .

More of THIS

After more than a month of smooth sailing with our "RADish", I feel I can safely type that the corner has not only been turned but is firmly in our rear-view mirror!
For more than a month, we have been without:
1. lies
2. sneaky behavior being uncovered
3. long crying jags of an unknown origin (or any crying, really)
4. emails or phone calls from concerned teachers about various transgressions
5. adults overhearing unsavory talk or unkindness to the youngers

We continue to praise the Lord for his new mercies! I know His word says His mercies are new every morning but for us, it feels like the verse should read "new every six years".

As I mentioned in a previous post, every professional we have read or consulted has
assured us that Reactive Attachment Disorder is an incurable plight with a dismal prognosis. I don't pretend to know more than any expert. I DO know what's happening inside our home and it is starting to look like a cure to me!! Our gracious God repeatedly has done more than we asked or imagined in paying for our adoptions, providing for the needs of our family, guiding us in a plethora of parenting issues, opening doors for service for us and even healing loved ones of illnesses . . . why would I ever think for a moment He would withhold healing our son? He wouldn't if it was His will to do so.

Lemuel is so much more than just a kid with RAD. I fear that when I blog, I fail to communicate that properly. He is a caring big brother, a star athlete, a hard worker, a loving son and he has the kind of perseverance that most people covet.
With the RAD-colored glasses removed, I am able to see him as so much more than the sum total of my heartache allowed.

He talked to me today out of the blue about one of his former placements. We were standing at the sink and he said "Mrs. 'Smith' lied to me". I asked him what he meant by that seemingly random statement.

He replied "she said when they dropped me off at the hospital they were coming back to get me but the next day they came to tell me they weren't keeping me. She's a liar".

My first reaction was to defend this woman who wanted very much to parent Lemuel but just didn't. She just didn't. He was tough to handle to be sure and she counted the cost and said "it's not worth it". (side note, it's ironic that his talk centers only around the mother in this case. There was a father. A "nice dad" according to my son).

Rather than defending her, I just agreed with him. It seemed the right thing to do plus, I've never spoken to her. I don't know why she threw in the towel after six months. I can only guess. He was a tough case.
He went on to thank me for not giving up and assured me that he knew God wanted him with us and that's why things didn't work out in the other families... Seeing his rejections through the plan of a Sovereign God is the only way for a child to make sense of what has happened to him. And it makes sense because it's true.

One more brick laid in a brand new foundation for a child who has been here such a long time but really just arrived . . .

SIX YEARS!

I can't promise a single one of you who are walking the RAD path that in six years, you will see great progress with your child. I can promise you that many parents give up before the harvest and they miss something wonderful.

Can you hang in there just a little longer? One more week? Two more months? Just a year or so? It seems too much to ask when you're in the fray, doesn't it?
It is. I would have taken ANY out that seemed reasonable at the lowest of times. I would have sent him back to his country if that was allowed. In fact, I remember praying that I would be diagnosed with some terrible illness so that I could disrupt the adoption and blame it on my own sickness. It would have felt legitimate. People do it all the time.
Thank you, Jesus, for NOT answering THAT prayer.

Instead, the bigger prayers of my heart were answered. For six years, my prayers were for God to infuse me with genuine, heartfelt, I-would-die-for-you love for this child so I could stick it out through the hardest of times. He fed me that love piecemeal, just enough for the day but never in enough abundance for me to let down my guard and stop clinging to Him like a life raft in a tidal wave.

I prayed for REAL connection to Lemuel so I could know that I have his heart. I prayed for him to trust us enough to know that we're not taking our last name from him when he messes up.

But ultimately, as much as this journey is teaching me, it's not ABOUT me much at all. It's about the value of one life - Lemuel's. It's about trusting our Heavenly Father when it seems we've lost hold of His hand. It's about sharing with anyone who will listen that God is faithful and more than able!

But to him, a day is as a thousand years and a thousand years is like a day.

Sometimes the hard times felt like they lasted a LITERAL thousand years.
And there may be more to come. . .

But I have blessed assurance that God is bringing about His purpose in His time and in His way.

We always said "use us, Lord . . . take our lives and do what you want"

It appears He took us up on the offer.

I am so glad He did!

Lem (left) and Ky (right) on paddle boats at our agency picnic

Keeping the Coals Stoked

I watched a documentary on Netflix today that both horrified and energized me at the same time. It is called " Triage, Humanitarian Dilemma: Dr. James Orbinski" or something close to that. Dr. Orbinski is a Canadian doctor, devoted father and lover of the poor and downtrodden people of Africa. If you have Netflix and want God to shake you right out of your complacency regarding the suffering that goes on around the globe, THIS is the documentary for you!
The last movie I watched was another documentary called "Small Voices" about street children in Cambodia. It, too, was an eye opening journey into the lives of those the word of God calls all Believers to minister to - the poor, the widows, the fatherless.
I have a love/hate relationship with documentaries such as the ones I just mentioned. I love the way they keep my heart tender for those in need around the world. I love how they open my eyes to those who suffer and struggle simply for survival. I hate how helpless these shows make me feel. I think about them for days. As I care for my family, I think about the mothers I saw on the screen, emaciated women, trying to nurse skeletal infants. I bemoan my need to lose 25 pounds and get back on the treadmill but realize that my "problem" is strictly FIRST WORLD. So small. Nothing, really.
There are two things I am always seeking my Heavenly Father about. The first is that the story of what Christ did on the cross is something I would never grow cold about - that it would always move and overwhelm me when I hear it. The second is that I would never be able to turn a blind eye to the suffering of other humans and go on, unaffected, if I can help in some way.
So far, He has proven faithful on both accounts.
I asked these things of Him years ago and had no idea how they would look in reality. If I had known, I may not have asked. Too late.
I can not contain my tears when I hear a song, read an account or hear a sermon about Calvary. I used to be unmoved as a teen and young woman. I felt grateful for what Jesus endured for my sake but accepted it and moved on. Not anymore.

I grew up with NO heart for the poor, the foreigner, the orphan or the widow. I remember making jokes about starving Africans as a young, stupid teen. I vividly recall thinking, when I saw hungry children on television with flies buzzing around their encrusted eyes and mouths "their parents should have used birth control". I had so little understand of the gift of life. Such short-sighted views of my role as a professing Believer in Christ. THOSE people that seemed so very different from me - so responsible for their situations - were just like me.

In the book of Revelation, God chastises the church at Laodecia for thinking they are rich when they are, in reality, "poor, blind, wretched, pitiful, poor and naked". I was likely MORE poor, blind, wretched, pitiful, poor and naked than those I stood in such superior judgement over.

The tender heart is something God cultivated in me after motherhood. After HE showed me the mystery of loving someone more than myself, He began to drive that love deeper and stretch it out to include those not of my bloodline. Only God can make someone as selfish as I was (and sometimes am) into a lover of strangers. Miracle of mercy! Proof He is REAL! Grace gift!

I dare you, fellow sojourners, ask the Lord to make your heart break for what breaks His. Ask him to keep your coals burning and your fire stoked for the calling that He has placed on your life.

Once you do, He will. And there is no going back. Never the same! Changed for the better! Pounded to dust for the sake of the gospel but fully renewed for the work!

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!!!!!

Getting To Know You . . .Getting To Know All About You . . .

Transition.
It is not a word that stirs up positive feelings and warm fuzzies.
In labor, "transition" is that excruciating time period when most women begin to say "I just can't do this anymore".

In adoption, "transition" refers to that period of time beginning the day your child comes home and ending at the point when you feel he is comfortable in his new family.

Transition in adoption can last anywhere from just a few months to upwards of a year depending on whether or not there are bonding "issues" on either side of the equation and depending on how much effort each side expends.

We have adopted children who were 3 1/2, 8, 2 and 15 years old upon arrival to our home. The two youngest were much like babies when they came home. Both were diapered. Neither could speak. They were utterly dependent on Mom and Dad for the meeting of their needs. Bonding is easy, in my opinion, when someone needs you THAT much. I got to hold and bottle feed Ezekiel for many months, looking into his eyes. Kyle was using a sippy cup but I often chose to tilt him back in my arms and rock him while he drank his pedia sure. I hoped, in both cases, I was emulating nursing - lots of eye contact, singing softly, cuddling them to sleep. It was blissful and the bonding happened spontaneously. Of course there were hard moments and bumpy times - sleepless nights, inexplicable crying (me AND them - ha ha) but those early days with my tiny ones were mostly happy and characterized by joy.

Here are a few VERY early pics of Kyle . . .

And Ezekiel . . .

When the child joining your family is much older, transition takes a bit of a different turn. For us, it was marked by some awkwardness, a few misunderstandings, a lot of time feeling like we have a house guest and plenty of "on your best behavior" for everyone involved. Time and familiarity helped bring the walls down but some strategies that I found EXTREMELY helpful in getting to know our newest family member (15 years old upon arrival home) may prove useful to someone out there in "cyberland" who is preparing to bring an older child home.

1. spend plenty of time doing intentional FUN activities. Francis and I play a game of scrabble or uno almost every night after the three youngest are in bed. We love to go to mini-golf as a family, out to movies or just sit outside in lawn chairs on nice nights while the kids toss the football or jump on the trampoline.

2. Involve your new child in HELPING right away. People feel more like family and less like company when they are contributing. We didn't want out new son to get the impression that we brought him here to "work" (ha ha) but we also wanted him to take ownership in the family and home. We started by asking him to help with cooking (he likes to cook) or taking out trash. He and I had a lot of fun the day he learned to sort laundry and use the washing machine! Many steps involved but I only had to show him ONCE and he mastered it!!

3. Because we homeschool, we have the added benefit of LOTS of extra time together. Part of our new son's daily work includes keeping a journal. He writes on topics like "My Most Amazing Day" or "My Biggest Regret". He chooses from a long list of prompts. I have gotten to know him so much better through his journal and I always take the time to write a little comment after his entry.

4. GIVE THEM SPACE. I found out (the hard way) that older adoptees sometimes need a little extra time to be alone with their thoughts. In the earliest days of our new son's arrival, I was so very worried about him grieving his "old life" that I know I badgered him with questions that he was not ready to answer yet. He is such a positive, happy person on a regular basis so recognizing those times of sadness and introspection was easy. During those times, I offer to listen or take a walk with him if needed but am careful not to be offended if the answer is "no, thanks". Sometimes it is.

5. Riding in the car alone (this works with all my teens, adopted or not) brings out a LOT of unexpected information. While we both concentrate on the road, it seems to take the pressure off the "where do I look?" "what do I do with my hands/eyes", "is she going to try and get all mushy and hug me" issues. My kids open up often while we are en route.

6. Indirect conversation has helped us to get to know our new teen. We will often talk about other people/children/situations and it seems a safe way to share how WE really feel about a given topic. While discussing a story we watched together on the nightly news, we are actually getting a good feel for how the other person perceives a situation.

7. Gage their comfort level with physical affection.
This was a HARD one for me. I am a very "huggy" person with my kids. I kiss them as much as I can. I love to rub their backs, hold their hands and snuggle with them - big and small. Some children are not used to physical affection. Others truly crave it but won't initiate. Still others will hang on you like an octopus if you are within arms' reach. As much as I wanted to wrap my new 15 year old in a blanket and rock him like a baby when he first came home (ha ha), I resisted.
I found that he was fine with being hugged and would often sit practically on my lap on the couch even though other seating was available. He would ask for help with his hair or some other task that involved closeness and so I interpreted that as a "green light". It was.
Just use your best judgement and observe the cues. Don't be pushy with the hugs but don't be stingy either. You may have to step outside of your comfort zone and take the RISK of having your efforts rebuffed. You never know until you try.

8. SEIZE THE MOMENT. If your new child gets sick, gets hurt during play or seeks you out while upset, make every effort to nurture. Go that extra mile in "babying" them so there is no question in their minds that you are the one they can always turn to. Open arms and open hearts are rarely empty.

I hope the list above doesn't feel overwhelming to any of you, dear readers. These are simple strategies that have helped us assimilate our newest blessing into the crew. The temperament of your child, the tenure of the home, the amount of English your new kiddo can understand and many other factors will effect how YOU integrate someone into your own family.

The most important strategy of all is also the simplest: pray daily for wisdom.
The Bible is clear that God longs to give wisdom to all who ask. Just ask.

The Jar

I have, by far, the most wonderful blog readers in the WORLD! My previous post regarding Lemuel's list brought so many sweet, affirming, been-there-done-that, comments and private emails that, once again, I am on the receiving end of multiplied blessings. I save those emails like candy in my pocket and read them at the lowest times in our battle with Reactive Attachment Disorder.
RAD is an ugly beast that makes children hard to love and makes parents throw their hands up, no matter how much reading, training, success or "good OTHER kids" they may have. RAD lays low even the most confident parent. Trust me. I have lived on both sides of the tracks. I was smug when my children were 10, 8 and 4. There was no RADish. Our word was law. Our kids were obedient and drew compliments on their behavior, manners and appearances everywhere we went. I remember an older lady approaching me at Taco Bell one afternoon to tell me that she has never seen such polite children in public and that our son's pre-meal prayer brought a tear to her eye. I was thrilled that she was hard-of-hearing and made these statements ten decibels louder than necessary.
RAD is the vehicle God has chosen to use to show us that HIS grace is sufficient. Through RAD, we realize that we are but dust (one "t" in "but" . . .ha ha) and HE is all that matters. RAD has shown us that missing ONE quiet time matters and that hugs and kisses are never to be taken for granted.
God is sovereign and His will can NOT be thwarted. He has handed us both bitter and sweet pills to swallow in this life and all that He allots is, in essence, good, useful and a means to the ultimate end - making HIS name great.
As I hug Lemuel goodnight tonight, things are so sweet. We are having a "good week" and his love feels like a fragile butterfly. I want to catch it and keep it in a jar on my dresser so it can't fly away. But just like a butterfly, I know it will die if I try to trap it. I have to appreciate it while it's near me but not make any sudden moves. I tell him "I love you" at least twice a day. Sometimes he answers in kind and other times . . . silence. The jar sits open.
I'm the ADULT. I'm the MOTHER. I'm the one who had a great childhood in a Christian family and always knew that, to at least two other people, I was a superstar. I must take the risks in this relationship with a child who has none of those benefits.
So I sign off tonight, bolstered by the hearts of my readers, who have shared with me that they, too, often walk down foggy paths, chasing their butterflies.
Thank you, yet again, for filling my pockets with "candy" for those rainy days when the jar is open and the butterfly is nowhere to be seen.