Adoption is Not the Gospel

There. I said it.   It has been  gnawing at my heart, mind and spirit for nearly a decade and I was never brave enough to put it in type and own it.  Now I am. And I will say it again.

Adoption is NOT the gospel.   The gospel is the gospel.

I am a four-time adoptive mother. I am an orphanage director. I love and support adoption and find it a beautiful picture of the growing of a family through an avenue not dictated by biology. It's an act of obedience for the families called to it. It's an adventure in "dying to self" that we might never experience any other way.

For many families, adoption is the will of God. It yields blessings too many to number. Yes! God does set the lonely in families (Psalm 68:6) and He calls us to look after orphans and widows (James 1:27)


But it is not the gospel.


Countless books, posts, summits and quotes tout "adoption is the gospel" or is as close to the gospel as a picture we could paint with our flesh here on earth. And I disagree. And I realize I'm nobody and I am disagreeing with the likes of John Piper, Russell Moore and numerous   learned scholars who could bury me in any argument any day of the week with all but one brain cell tied behind their backs.

But, folks, I don't see it. And I have adopted. I love my adopted children to the ends of the Earth.

The gospel, my friends, is the sacrificial death of a holy, perfect God on the cross for sinful, undeserving man.  The gospel is the ONLY hope for hell-bound sinners (that's all of us, by the way) to find life outside of the condemnation we all deserve. 

So where, in this list of descriptors of the gospel of Christ, does the Earthly picture of adoption show up?  Are we, the adoptive parents, the representatives of Christ? Are we saving our adopted children from a literal or theoretical "hell" when we adopt them? Are we laying down our very lives for the purpose of bringing children into our families?  It might feel like it some days but, I assure you, the act of adopting a child will not cost you your literal life. In most cases, anyway. 

And if it did, your death wouldn't pay for a single sin. Neither would mine. 

Wouldn't a more accurate picture of the gospel be we, as adoptive parents, changing places with our adopted children?  We would go live in orphanages as the fatherless and they would be ushered into our homes, no qualifiers needed. We would give up everything in our own lives and just simply hand it over to children who hate us ? Isn't that more in the range of the gospel than us bringing a beautiful child into our homes where we inadvertently get a host of benefits, not the least of which is being able to parent precious children who had no family. 

Adoption is GOOD.  Adoption is BEAUTIFUL and Adoption is HARD.  But when it is equated to the gospel, when it reduces the gospel to something even remotely reproducible by the very recipients of the pure love of God the Father, who had no sin in Him, it falls agonizingly short.  

The same scripture that calls us as Believers to "care for orphans" also calls us to "care for widows". But how many fund raisers have your friends held, how many Go Fund Me pages for the care of widows?  How many of us as Believers are rushing to bring widows into our homes? I never have. It never even crossed my mind to do that.  I wanted more children. That was at the heart of our adoption. Maybe that isn't the case for every adoptive family. But I wanted a bunch of kids. And I got them through adoption. 

Adopting my sons never felt like the gospel. It felt like what it was. Adopting sons. It was exhilarating and awesome.  It was obedience to the call on our family. But the analogy that adopting them was somehow a type of "salvation" for them or for us just felt awkward. And wrong. It's not like what Jesus did. It's what people do. We take care of each other in whatever way God tells us to. 

And where does  "adoption is the gospel" or "adoption is God's heart" leave our fellow Believers who aren't called to adopt children? Do they feel "less than"?  Do they somehow miss the full illustration of the gospel in their lives because they haven't adopted a fatherless child?  I pray they never feel that way.  I pray they understand adoption is a calling on specific families while CARING for the fatherless is a mandate for all of us who claim to belong to the great big family of God. 

Please hear my heart on this. I LOVE ADOPTION!!! I LOVE MY ADOPTED SONS and my biological children with all that I am. 

It is beautiful when the children in my orphanage are united with their forever families through adoption.  It's my heart's desire for the ones who also desire it.

But no human analogy - not adoption, not marriage, not organ donation, not soldiers dying in combat, not people selling all their worldly goods to move to the third world to open an orphanage, not any single act we can engage in can hold a candle to what Jesus did on the cross those 2,000 years ago to reconcile us to God.

That singular act of love, which needed no repeating for a new batch of sinners (unlike adoption which presents a continuous need for new families to reach out to new orphans)  and which could only be satisfactorily completed by God Himself, is final. And incomparable. 

Adoption is adoption. Worthy in it's own way.

The gospel is the gospel. Beauty beyond comprehension, sacrifice beyond replication , good news with no parallel.  

Perfect for the imperfect.  Holy for the sinful. 

Life giving and soul saving in  the only way a human soul can be. 

Adoption is not the gospel. The gospel is the gospel. 

 

 

Not Like Us, Older Child Adoption Part 2

Most of you readers are aware of the fact that, back in 2006, our family welcomed a child into our home from a disrupted adoption.    I detailed the events surrounding that decision and the hardships that came as a result of it in a blog post that went  viral here.
Although this particular son has had struggles common to kids from hard places even since that time, I firmly believe he has been healed of the worst of the damage and God has done a miracle for him.
We are still in awe of that healing, eight years after placement.

But I share with you today, not so much as a four-time Philippine adoptive parent but as the director of a Child Caring Agency that is in the throes of preparing our first group of children for their "forever families".

I share because TWO disrupted adoptions further broke the heart of my broken son and it is my deepest desire that the children from our orphanage should never suffer that same pain.

I write because TWO American families had to cope with the hard decision to find a new family for a child and those families walked into adoption with, I'm sure, the best of intentions and the highest of hopes. They spent countless dollars and offered many prayers for the child that would be theirs but they could not stay the course.

And I write for a little boy who currently lives in our center but could so easily follow the path of my own broken son if not for an adoptive family who understands . . . who is patient . . . who sees hidden treasure underneath the damaged earth.

This is a child who spent years on the streets.  He begged. He parked cars. He scavanged in the trash to make a few pesos from recyclable items.  He took the money back to a very poor mother and she used it to provide for their family.  He was abused both on the streets and at home.  He's 12 and small for his age with a HUGE personality.

This is a child who could easily grow up to be a pastor, a politician...  or a disrupted adoption story.

He already has some innate strikes against him in terms of a successful placement.
He's older.
He's a boy.
He's very very behind academically, although he's smart.
That HUGE personality may look like RAD (Reactive Attachment Disorder) to some well-read but inexperienced adoptive family.
And THAT is where my fear and heartbreak meet and THAT is why I want to speak out on behalf of this child and so many others like him who wait in this country for a fresh start and a forever family.

Because I am American, I can really only speak to my own adoptive culture and community although I suspect in places like Australia and France - places with plenty of access to adoption literature, professionals who will analyze your child into oblivion and  to internet horror stories - might follow a similar pattern.

This little boy is NOT like a typical American child.  Because he is neither typical nor American.
He's a Filipino former street child who spent much more time on the streets and  in inadequate shelters than he has spent in a solid, safe family setting.  He, and others like him, have some coping strategies that might make a new family hesitant to receive him but I pray that someone will because as we see those survival mechanisms fade away, a beautiful boy is emerging.  This child is going to make some family happier and more alive than they have ever been. In time.

Some of the behaviors you MIGHT see in an older adopted child are:

1. "Over Loving"- for an infant, crying physical closeness and lots of eye contact help get those basic needs met. For an older child, sometimes the words "I love you" will come out too soon in an effort to communicate to his new family that he has needs and wants you to meet them.  An older adopted child might scare his parents who have read in countless adoption books that when a child is too loving, too soon, he is being "superficially charming" and probably has an attachment disorder.
In some children, that is true.  But I submit to you that the children we have worked with do not even understand what real parental love looks like, for the most part.  They mimic what they hear those happy TV families say and it yields positive results so they continue to do that.  As time goes on, we see the kids in our center start to say "I love you" less and less as they begin to receive love from us and our staff. They start to prefer us to strangers in public and they begin to make eye contact when they say "I love you".  And I am not naive, I feel the change in this child.  I can see it.  His forever family will, too.  If they are willing to wait for it.

2. "Over Asking" - kids who have had to fend for themselves will often ask for everything under the sun.  It is annoying. It feels like they are "using" you.  It is worrisome and embarrassing, especially when the child asks a family friend or a casual acquaintance for food, money, etc.  If your new son or daughter spent time begging, this is a behavior that has granted them lots of goodies and it takes time to extinguish.   A child needs a LONG time of having his needs met consistently by other people before he stops "looking out for number one".   He will get it eventually.  Three months into care with two of our boys and they already get it.  The asking for things has diminished.  The thankfulness has increased. Again, it takes time and it takes reminders that it's not nice to ask people for things all the time.

3. "Over Helping" - your older adopted child may believe he has to work to stay in your family. The children in our center have chores and work hard but most of them came in and tried to do EVERY chore ALL THE TIME.  If a child saw a staff member sweeping, he would try to take the broom and finish.  He would offer to change dirty diapers, do ALL the dishes for this HUGE group of people and even cook the food.  Kids who have been on the street are used to working for what they get.  Even begging is work. It is hard work, actually.  The kids spend hours in the hot son approaching strangers and dealing with a lot of rejection, harsh remarks and being ignored. Very hard on the spirit of a child but "work", just the same.  Families must reassure their new child that no matter how much - or how little- they do by way of chores, they are wanted, loved and will always be a part of the family.

4. "Over Touching" - The children in our center crave physical attention almost all the time. They want to hold hands, sit on our laps (even the "tough" street kids), kiss our cheeks and just be close. They are getting their needs met, parents.  They may smother you a little, at least for the first few months.  You have to do what is comfortable for you but here, we let them.  We feel such a privilege in getting to meet those unmet needs.  We are preparing them for you in hopes that the behaviors that will scare you into a counselor's office might be a little lessened by the time you meet them.  But they won't be gone. They may even start over because you are somebody new.  Please, I beg you, hug those kids.  Let that 12 year old sit on your lap at home.  Cradle him while you watch a movie. Do it. Don't chastise him for acting younger than his age.  He is putting his heart on the line and asking you to go back in time  with him a little.  The phase won't last forever but the strong bond and healing that come out of it will.

5. "Over Hurting" - the smallest physical injury, a small scratch or a mild bump, might cause your new son/daughter to over react.  They are asking for your undivided attention. They are checking to see if you will come to their aid when they get hurt. They are finding out how much you care about even the small things. On the street, there was no one to kiss those boo boos and put on a band aid. We go through a box a week when a child is new to our center. They can not get enough having those tears dried - even if they had to squeeze them out themselves.  Just like the other "overs", it will fade with time.

I am working hard to be professional and controlled as I type this post but my insides want to splash out onto the screen and BEG you adoptive families not to disrupt the adoptions of the precious kids in my center.  I KNOW them. I ADORE them. I dissolve into tears when I think of them having to endure this kind of pain after the lives they have lived. I know it happens.  I know it could possibly happen to my precious boy in the photo.   Or our others. 

But I also believe there are things WE can do on this side of water and things YOU can do as you wait that will help improve the chances of a great, long-lasting placement for even the children who are older and from hard places.

We'll take care of our side the best we know how but can I just ask THREE small, simple things of you hopeful adoptive parents?  Just THREE . . .

FIRST:  Bury the fantasy!  Falling in love with a photo and a write up is natural in adoption. I have done it four times.  I was "in love" with my kids the moment I received that referral photo and learned the details of their lives.  I built an image in my mind of what my sons would be like and when they were not, it was hard.  I realized they are NOT like "us".  Their voices, their preferences, their personalities- were nothing like the grateful Tiny Tims in my mind who fell into my arms and said "thank you for rescuing me".  Not even close.  Please do not build a mental fantasy around your new child before you meet him. He won't live up to it. He will disappoint. And so will you.  You waited SO long and prayed SO hard for this child  but don't let the "wanting" be better than the "having".
Together, you will find your groove and be the family that God intended.

SECOND: READ LESS, PRAY MORE. There are wonderful books about adoption, attachment, bonding and disorders of such.  I encourage you not to delve too deeply into those.  I know that RAD is real but I also know a lot of money is made from the psycho-analysis and medication of children from hard places. That money might be better spent on family activities and that time better spent in prayer.  With our twice-disrupted son, we opted for counseling, out-of-home respite and lots of other interventions and, for us, there was no "miracle" in those things. The miracle came when we began to accept our boy for who he is and change our own expectations and hearts toward him and his past.  Beauty really IS in the eye of the beholder. Cliche as that is, there is so much truth there. If only I had known .  .  .

THIRD: Give it a full year.  I would venture to say that the changes adoption causes in a family are so drastic that life is upside down for a long time.  Even with a child you adore at first sight, your lives are nothing like they were before "gotcha day" and you all need to step back and find your new normal. In all four of our adoptions, our family was happy but stressed for several months after placement. By the one-year mark, for most of our adoptive placements, we were feeling pretty "normal" and even considering another child.  Remember that at one-month post placement, your family looks nothing like it will at one-year post placement.  Please, just give him a year.  I think you'll be glad you did.


I know this post is general and that every child and every family are different. Each sending country has cultural issues that will not be in line with Filipino culture but, at the heart of all of this, is the common thread. Adoption is hard and if God calls, He equips.

Trust Him. Enjoy your child. Journal the hard and the good. Somebody, somewhere, someday, will need to draw from your life and find the hope to keep, and not disrupt, their adopted child.

For HIS Fame,
Nikki Esquivel
Co-Founder
Middleman Community Support Center, Inc.
"Mercy House"

Who needs CHURCH?

"Let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up gathering together as some are in the HABIT of doing but encouraging one another. All the more as the Day approaches."  Hebrews 10:24-25

I need church.  So do you.

On Saturday, I had a very difficult day.  One of our shelter residents had an emotional home visit,  and another was signed over to us by a parent.

We took our social workers to lunch and, on the way out, decided to buy lunch for three street boys who were hanging around the restaurant.  After we handed them the bags of food, four or five OTHER street boys who had been watching from a distance came running over.  An older boy tried to take food from a younger boy.   Our social worker had to intervene.  The older street boy was clearly mentally challenged and a bully. The others were afraid of him. We had to stand between him and the child who's food he was going after (despite the fact that we had given him something of his own) while the younger child walked away. 

I watched these children - filthy, shoeless, hair dyed orange and cut in some crazy styles- and after the hard day I'd already had, all I could think was   "I have no idea what I'm doing here and I don't want to deal with ANY of this  anymore." 

I don't want to watch kids fight over food, or parents sign away their rights, or siblings crying because they want to keep their little brother with them but we have to take him back to Mercy House.

I want to be near my children in America, who are getting ready to start college.  I want to drive to Wal Mart and buy things that aren't on my list.   I want to run into friends there and chat while we block the isles with our carts and have to say "oops, sorry" and move out of the way.   I want to drink tap water.  I want my kids to have their old friends back.  I want a steady pay check every two weeks and insurance provided by the company. 

But that was Saturday.  Today is Monday and what happened in between was pure grace.

CHURCH.

Church is what happened.

I walked into my church with the burden of Saturday crushing my spirit.   I walked out with the peace of Christ making me feel lighter than ever.

I listened to the message from 1 Samuel, about Hannah and Elkanah and the giving BACK to the Lord of their son, Samuel.  I sang praise songs that talked about the goodness of God and how much He loves us.  

And my church is not perfect. There are  things I would change. There always have been in every church I've ever been a part of.

If I let my critical spirit take over, I would surely not go to church anywhere ever.  I would sit in judgement with my arms crossed and wonder if every element is necessary or even Biblical.

But in the place of desperation,  I am changed.   I can not wait to get to my church and just think about Him, and unburden, and refocus and remember WHY we are here and doing what we are doing. 

So maybe you feel like you don't need church. Maybe you think you're closer to God "sitting by a river".  Maybe you think the music is too loud or the chairs are too hard or the sermon is too long.  Maybe you think the people are phony or they don't have the same passion that you have.

I know. I've been there.  Too many times.

But the recent events of life coupled with an understanding that when the Bible says something, I need to do it, no matter how I FEEL about it, have given me a new love and appreciation for the assembling together of Believers.   I need them. I need to hear any good word about my Savior.  I need uninterrupted time to think about Him.    

We all do.   Don't get to the end of your rope before you obey what has already been commanded.

Go to church.   Trade in those critical eyes for a grateful heart.  

And be amazed at the goodness of our God!

The Quandary

There is a lot of shifting going on in our lives right now.   Our two amazing biological children left us and went back to America.
We took one of our Mercy House boys back to his foster family today ( after catching him attempting to steal from us ) and we immediately picked up another child - an eleven year old boy named JayVee.   He is already proving to be a LOT of fun.  He has an amazing sense of humor and, as an added bonus for ME, he speaks a lot of English.   I can usually tell within a few minutes if I'm going to click with a child.
We click.

JayVee (green shirt) posing with our son, Kyle

There's no quandary in these things. We miss our bio kids. We are thankful JayVee is with us and we're sad that, after 8 weeks at Mercy House, a child decided to steal from us.  Easy peasy.

Here is the quandary that keeps us up at night and has us utterly CONVINCED one minute and filled with doubt the next:

                  REUNIFICATION

We have a tiny boy in our care at Mercy House. He has a mother, an aunt and a grandmother who love him.  They want him back.
Seems simple enough, right?  No.  Not right and not simple.

This photo is purposely a little vague to protect the privacy of the people in it.  The little boy being held is our Mercy House child. The lady holding him is his grandmother, who has missed him for nine months. The woman wiping her eyes is his biological mother, who struggles with mental health issues and wandered off with this child nine months ago, unable to tell authorities where they truly belong.
We looked for them for three months and finally found them. They didn't know where this child was. They were frantic.
And now they want him back.
Our ministry philosophy has always been and is still that Filipino children are best off in The Philippines with their biological family whenever that option is a safe one.
But is it?
This child is THREE.  This little family is poor and struggles with basic needs.  We can help them there but is it enough?
Our social worker has the weighty task of evaluating and monitoring this family to ensure that they take care of this little one but none of us can be there around the clock.
And add in the "monkey wrench" of the fact that we really love this little boy.
And you have  THE QUANDARY.
The power of words is startling in this situation. The recommendations we and our social worker make determine the course of this precious child's life.
Our words can send him back to his family or they can start him on the fast track to adoption.
Our words can keep him here at Mercy House for a long time or send him away  in a matter of weeks.
This deepens the quandary.
What if we decide he can go back to the family and something bad happens to him? What if his mother relapses and takes him on another long walk to unfamiliar territory?  Will he be so lucky the second time to be placed in care before an accident happens?
In my pre-missionary days,  there would be no quandary. I would have stated unequivocally that being adopted to the US, Australia, Spain or somewhere "richer" was clearly the best answer to his need for permanency.
But I live here now.  In a developing nation.
And I know that for every child placed on the road to adoption, another child is waiting. And another. And another.
There are simply not enough adoptive parents open to older child with negative birth history to ensure that someone will step forward for this little angel.
And he is.   An angel, I mean.
He's funny and smart and very small for his age.  He understands jokes and tries to speak English a lot.
I know some family out there has been praying for a little boy just like him.  Only they don't know it.
And we could get him all set to be adopted.
But is that the best thing for him?  Not only him.  His mother? His grandmother? His aunt? His two older brothers?
They love him, you know.
Being poor doesn't mean they love less deeply than the rest of us.  They are just more powerless.
THIS is another layer of the quandary. I know what the Bible says about the responsibility I have toward the poor.
This is the reason I cling to the book of James and the promise that God gives wisdom generously to those who ask for it.
I'm asking . . . 

The Beauty of Three

It is a day for celebration in our busy household!

Today marks three years since our amazing, beautiful wonder-baby, Ezekiel, joined our family and brought us the kind of light and joy that came unexpected and welcome . . .

"Gotcha Day" . . . March 8th, 2010

But his story started long before he made his way down the jetway and into my arms.

Long before . . .

Ezekiel's birth mother had no idea the baby she carried was a child with Down Syndrome. After his birth, she was still unaware. It was not until Ezekiel was two months old and birthmom took him to a clinic for a check up that a doctor shared the news that devastated her and thrust my precious baby into orphanhood.   She was told he had not only Down Syndrome but a heart defect.  For a single mother with another child,  and an ill-paying job, she  knew that a diagnosis like this would be expensive and she could not provide.  So she did an extraordinarily unselfish deed.
She took him to an orphanage nearby in hopes that the people there could afford to fix his heart and find him a family.
But they said "no".
They, too, realized that a child with Down Syndrome is expensive to care for.
And hard to place.
So she journeyed on to try another orphanage and came to Gentle Hands.
She met a woman named Charity, the director. A woman who knows the value of EVERY LIFE . . .
And she said "yes".

This is one of the last photos of birthmom holding Ezekiel on Surrender Day.

This was taken at the orphanage. 

Ezekiel was lovingly cared for and given medications and check-ups at GH. He was mothered by
a woman named Thelma who gave him her heart, knowing it was just a loan . . .

Ezekiel and Thelma 

 Ezekiel grew and thrived at Gentle Hands for more than two years!

He was their first child with Down Syndrome, but would not be their last.  I have a feeling they
learned from Ezekiel the same thing we learned.  Children with Down Syndrome are set apart. They bring unspeakable joy and an adjusting of perspective to all who are lucky enough to know them.

Ezekiel and Charity . . . the one who said "yes" . . .

And this is the very picture we saw  that made our hearts leap for joy because we knew THIS was one of OUR children!  So with the help of many, especially the group started by a precious lady called "Friends of Ezekiel", the concerted effort to bring him home to us met with success!

This is the family that God chose to bless with Ezekiel. 

The brothers who protect him. . .

The people who cherish him . . .

The mother who would do anything for him . . .

The Kuya who adores him . . .

The Ate who takes such good care of him . . .

And the father who let faith triumph over fear to bring home a son who would always be with us . . . 

I can say with complete confidence that in the three years since Ezekiel has been ours, there has not been one regret!  He fits into this family like he has always been here. I have often wondered if God miraculously changed his DNA to mine and his father's.  But I would never want that.
I wouldn't  change one thing about this boy's journey to our family.
Every life he touched needed touching.
Every heart he held needed holding.
Every sacrifice made for him needed making.

It is my heartfelt prayer at this three-years-home celebration that even one mother who has received a Down Syndrome diagnosis for her baby might stumble upon my blog.  She might consider the cost and know the JOY and choose LIFE . . .

Maybe she is afraid that this life will be burdensome.  Possibly someone in a white coat has talked of the heart defects, low intellect and lifetime dependence and she feels trapped.  I won't lie to her and tell her it is exactly the same as parenting a typically-developing child.  There are differences.
But they are not burdens.
They are privileges.

Happy three-years home to my little grace gift . . .

Made in the image of a Holy God . . .

Today