The Angel

It was God's grace that I "happened" to take the Beyond Consequences Online Parenting Class right now. Although it's designed to help us more effectively parent children who've experienced trauma, I find it's helping me as I navigate my own trauma of going through a divorce. I also realize that as I live with my pain, I understand my children's pain more vividly.

Lately, I have been anything but an angel. I find myself having great difficulty even speaking civily with my husband. I pray for patience, and yet I so readily fly off the handle. When he leaves, I calm down, see the error of my ways, ask for forgiveness from him and/or the kids, evaluate my behavior and try to learn how to be more polite the next time.

Beyond Consequences teacher, Heather Forbes, talks about the amount of stress we can take before we blow up. She calls it the Window of Stress Tolerance. To illustrate this point, I want you to think of a bucket. It's got some water in the bottom which represents your life. There are a few rocks in there too, collected from the various problems one has. Now, most of us can carry the bucket around without difficulty. Water and a few rocks get added every day, but we know to stop, take some rocks out, pour out some of the water, and go on with our buckets.

Someone who is experiencing/has experienced trauma, has a much different scenario. They have a bucket that is nearly full before they even get out of bed. As soon as they wake up, they know they must lug that heavy bucket around everywhere they go. They are tired of the water sloshing out onto their pant leg all the time. They dread the problems they know will happen today. They always do. The bucket will get too heavy. It always does. They will stand there. Holding on to the bucket with two hands. Crying. Yelling. Frustrated.

Maybe, just maybe, an angel will come along. The angel will gently take the bucket from their grip. The angel will pour out the water onto some flowers, and take the rocks out to line a garden path. The angel will give them a hug, a cup of tea, sit and chat, and then send them on their way with a manageable bucket.



Although I am carrying around my own heavy bucket, I need to be the angel to my children.

Maybe I can even be the angel to myself.

(photos: my daughter and our dog - June 2009; flowers at the Abbey - July 2009)

Beyond Consequences

I have been interested in learning more about adoption related abandonment issues. I recently heard of a 10-week online class about parenting children with challenging behaviors, and found out I could take the class for free if I promised to blog about it. Although in a round about way I'm being paid to blog, I promise to be honest about my thoughts on the course and the book we are using.

One purpose of the first class was to help us change our thinking about WHY our children misbehave. In order to do this we need to understand more about stress and how the brain works. A little bit of stress is useful, and most of us can cope with the stresses in our lives. If a car pulls out in front of us, we are sent into a state of heightened stress which enables us to react quickly and avoid an accident. After we slow down and keep a safe distance from the other car, we are able to modulate or regulate ourselves and get back to "normal".

But children who have experienced trauma in their lives can't deal with the same amount of stress. For them, the same car that has pulled out is like putting one of us in the middle of the race at the Indy 500. They quickly become overloaded or overwhelmed (dysregulated). If I were plopped into the middle of such a car race, there is no way I could observe the other drivers, glean from them how to navigate around the other cars, and blend in with the pack. And yet, often, I expect our daughter to observe others (or me), figure out how to deal with different situations, and just get with the program!, you know.

The author's contention is that if you peel back the misbehaviors, layer by layer, you will find at the core: fear. Fear of abandonment, for example, can be triggered by something that seems to have no correlation whatsoever. It's just that when the child is overwhelmed, they revert to their basic instinct of not being safe. A state of fear. The author also takes brain research from the past 20+ years and uses that to back up her claims of why the child automatically goes into a state of fear as a coping mechanism.

One of our homework assignments was to practice deep breathing so our bodies revert to it automatically when we are stressed. I have been teaching this to my children, and they've noticed the difference in their outlook right away. I want to keep practicing it when they're calm, in the hopes that it will instinctively be used when feeling overwhelmed.

I've read lots of parenting books in the course of my teaching career, and more recently as a parent. Years ago, I may have pooh-poohed this talk of fear-based behaviors. But experience has taught me that there's something to this...

The book:
Beyond Consequences, Logic, and Control by Heather T. Forbes and B. Bryan Post
The Beyond Consequences Online Parenting Class is taught by Ms. Forbes.

(our happy daughter, playing her brother's guitar)

Okra and Mercy

I've only eaten okra once, and that was enough to convince me that I don't like it. We ended up with a one pound bag of frozen okra that never made it to the stove top. Instead, it has been promoted to (drum roll, please): ice pack. Yes, folks. Providing far more than its potential nutritional value, it has nursed bruises, sprains, and nebulous owies for several years now. I was going to post about Haydn this evening. Well, actually...about how little I know about the stars. But here I sit at the computer with a bag of frozen okra on my knee. (I wonder how many times Haydn and okra make it into the same paragraph??)

Bedtime reading for the kids tonight was supposed to be Farmer Boy. I had only just begun the chapter about the horse thieves and the strange dog when our own dog, Lady, barked quite vehemently at the back sliding door. My son and I came to investigate what was making our usually calm dog so agitated. We spied a dog - no leash, no master - nosing around in the greenbelt area behind our house. Our daughter came downstairs, and as she is sometimes wont to do, she riled Lady up even more. Lady turned around so quickly that she banged into my knee quite hard, and gave me a big old bruise.

It hurt like the dickens, so I sent the offending "riler" up to bed, without any more Laura Ingalls Wilder. The "rilee" continued to bark at the stray, and my son went to get his pellet gun. Just in case.

I had just read this morning from Deuteronomy 32:2:

Let my teaching fall like rain
and my words descend like dew,
like showers on new grass,
like abundant rain on tender plants.

I would like to say that I consciously thought of that verse, but that would be lying. God must have brought it into my heart anyway, because I was able to sit on my daughter's bed a few minutes later and have a far different conversation than I wanted to. Playing the martyr sounded pretty good when I first went upstairs! Throbbing knee, and all.

My daughter felt pretty bad about the whole episode, and wanted me to slap her, of all things. To make it even, she said. Of course I didn't comply. Would hurting you take away my bruise? I asked her. She knew the obvious answer to that question.

We were able to have a conversation about obedience, learning from mistakes, and turning the other cheek. She was able to see that she likes to rile up Lady because it makes her feel in control of something. When she feels out of control regarding being placed for adoption, this makes her want to take control wherever she can. The wind out of her sails, she received my forgiveness, and calmed down. She was then able to come up with some really good ideas of healthy ways to take control of various parts of her life.

I am so thankful that I was able to extend mercy to her when that wasn't my first desire. And it was all because God has extended His perfect mercy to me. He made certain I was primed with patience, mercy, and wisdom from Moses. It's a verse I've read many times before. I've copied it down. Lost it. Written it in journals. This morning, I even wrote it in marker on a piece of paper and taped it where I can see it every day while I sit in the rocker by the fireplace. All, just for this evening.

Amazing when you think of it. Our God IS an awesome God!

Now, let me get this okra back into the freezer. I don't want it to start thawing and get that slime all over everything.

Worth It

Doing some goofing around here at the blog this evening. It's fun. I added another blog to my blogroll on the right (last one on the bottom - nice photographs, cheery author, light reading for the most part). I got to thinking. I'm pretty sure that the authors of some would not enjoy reading some of the others. But, that's OK. I like my variety. They all inspire me for one reason or another.

So,... after dinner we all played Pictionary for a little while. Daughter and I (the winning team!) did great until I had to draw "whisper". Then, tucking her into bed and praying with her, she asked if she was worth it. Judging by the look on her face...I knew exactly what she was thinking.

You see, she watched Extreme Makeover on Sunday evening while I was at a Bible study. We've never seen it before, but this episode made quite an impression on her. One of the makeover recipients was a man with cerebral palsy who needed his coffee shop made wheelchair accessible. This same man had been thrown into a dumpster when he was a baby. His story made our daughter wonder in amazement, a) how his mom could throw him in there, b) how he survived, and c) how nice he is, with no trace of bitterness. "Mommy, if you had seen the show, you would have cried."

So, tonight, our daughter wondered if she was worth it. Worth saving. Worth keeping. Worth living.

I held her close, buried my face in her hair, and kissed the top of her head over and over. Then I told her those comforting words she needs to hear so often.

Yes, honey, you're worth it. We love you so much. God loves you so much. He planned it all before you were born. He brought you here. You are our precious daughter.

I love you.

You are worth it!

(photo of our Worth It Girl, doing some goofing around of her own, with lip gloss)

Made in China

I've got a dozen ideas rolling around in my head and no time to write. Such is the December life in a family with two musicians and one ballerina.

While driving this evening to my job playing a Christmas extravaganza at what our son calls The Starbucks Church (another potential post), I spied this bumper sticker:

Made in China
Loved in America

The bottom of the bumper sticker had the website address of a popular local adoption agency that specializes in adoptions from China.

As the mother of two children adopted from Korea, I found this very offensive. What do most people think of when they hear the term, Made in China? Especially nowadays, they think lead poisoning, unhealthy, inferior, cheap, tacky, destined for the trash heap, etc.

The precious babies that are conceived, carried, and placed for adoption in a country with a barbaric one-child policy are none of these things. They are human beings, created in the image of God. In addition, I daresay that the vast majority of them were very loved. They just happened to be the wrong gender in a country where only one child is allowed, and a son will be the one to care for you when you're older.

Dear Lord, I pray your special blessing on orphans, their birth families (especially the birth mothers), and their adoptive families.

Two Choices, Worlds Apart

I received this e-mail today from Colorado Right to Life:

"Planned Parenthood of the Rocky Mountains (PPRM) is planning on breaking ground on a new 50,000-square-foot baby death camp on November 1, 2007. They plan to relocate from their current location, 20th and Vine Street, to the old Stapleton Airport area in northeast Denver. This new 4.2 million dollar mega-killing center is slated to begin operating in August 2008."

Here is the e-mail I just sent to a Denver city councilperson:

I have learned that Planned Parenthood is soon to begin construction of a new building at Stapleton. If this is true, I am extremely dismayed for two reasons.

First, Planned Parenthood doesn't promote much planning when it comes to parenthood. Nowadays, they are more known for providing abortions. The planning of parenthood should occur BEFORE one becomes pregnant. Aborting a baby is not planning. It is the ending of a human life.

Second, our son entered our family through adoption. He was born in Korea, and came to us, via United Airlines, landing at the old Stapleton Airport on December 19, 1994. You can see how the Stapleton site has a special place in our hearts, for it's where our hands-on parenting began on a chilly winter evening.

Have you ever thought that there are only two letters difference between the words abortion and adoption? Just two letters difference, and yet they are worlds apart in their goals and realities. I would like to continue to think of the Stapleton area as being a place of fertile ground for uniting and creating families, not a place where families are torn asunder and lives are ended.

I am so upset, I can't even think of a proper title for this post.

And to think, this is the eve of our daughter's eleventh birthday. Another life saved through adoption.

Children and Answered Prayer

It is amazing how God graciously answers the prayers of our children.

This evening, we all took our dog, Lady, to the dog park. Our daughter was lamenting the fact that some of her favorite dogs weren't there for her to play with. So, I boldly prayed with her that God would bring one of them to the dog park within five minutes. She added that she wanted to see Belle and Strider the most. Within less than two minutes, Belle and Strider showed up!

Now, in light of eternity, a little girl's wish for two dogs to play with doesn't seem very important.

But, a few hours later, while putting our daughter to bed, she became sad about her birth mother [a recurring thing these days]. Usually, when I ask if we could pray for her birth mother, our daughter gets upset. But tonight, she agreed. Since her birth mother probably wakes up shortly after our daughter goes to bed [time zone difference], together we prayed for her birth mother to have a good day. We prayed that she would become a Christian if she isn't already. Then, our daughter prayed that her birth mother would want to talk to her when we find her [a search that we won't be able to institute for another 7 1/2 years].

Now, I know He's not Santa Claus, and His ways are not always our ways. But, if God can make two dogs show up at the dog park, can't He make a birth mother want to meet her birth daughter?

An Oasis of Hope

I'm reading Twenty Things Adopted Kids Wish Their Adoptive Parents Knew by Sherrie Eldridge. Mrs. Eldridge is an adoptee, and she pulls no punches with the stark realities of what it sometimes means to be adopted. But she is also a Christian, and feelings of hope pervade her writing. It is precisely this hope which I need to latch on to right now.

Mrs. Eldridge writes, "...the very act of adoption is built upon loss. Grief is the natural response to loss, and those touched by adoption must be given permission to revisit emotionally the place of loss, feel the pain, scream the anger, cry the tears, and then allow themselves to be loved by others. If left unresolved, this grief can and often does sabotage the strongest of families and the deepest potential within the adopted child." She goes on to say, "The pain of adoption is not something that happens to a person; it is the person. Because the pain is so primal, it is virtually impossible to describe." Pretty heavy stuff!

Thankfully, Mrs. Eldridge ends her first chapter with a message of hope. "It is clear that healthy grafting doesn't always come easily in adoptive families! Neither is it spontaneous nor natural. Rather, it is a labor of sacrificial love and commitment... Here the delicate tissues from the parents and the severed branch mingle together to form a lasting, intimate attachment that will serve as a model for future healthy relationships. Unresolved adoption loss is not an unconquerable mountain! ...you have every reason to hope for a beautiful, thriving child and family."

We can bear to read and ponder the crucifixion account in the Bible because we know that the resurrection is coming. So, too, we can bear to endure the pain the entire family encounters during the grafting process because we know that what God brought together, He will not forsake. I pray continually for our children, especially our daughter who is feeling the pain of loss right now. Although we traveled on some rough terrain again today, He gave us an oasis of hope for some of our journey.

The Twister that Wasn't

My soul finds rest in God alone...

So begins Psalm 62. David surely knew about the comfort of rest in God during times of trial.

I was weary. I needed rest. So I figured our daughter did too. I read a lot about adoption, attachment disorder, and loss last night. Today whenever I saw a tantrum coming, I picked her up and held her or rocked her. (Thankfully, she's small for ten years old.) I lost track of how many times this scenario was repeated, but it was successful. For the first time in a long while we made it through the day without any tantrums. Praise God!

She liked my analogy of a tornado. I said she could have that baby funnel creep out of the clouds, but it wasn't to touch the ground. We were going to let God draw it back up into the clouds. And under no circumstances could it bounce around on the ground and cause destruction in its wake.

Thank you, Lord, for your rest today.

I Can Barely Remember

This school year has been one of tremendous trials. First, our son's broken leg in September, followed by months of painful recovery. Second, my mother's two hospitalizations for pneumonia and other complications, including almost dying in the emergency room. (A terrifying prospect with an unsaved loved one.) And now, with our daughter's adoption issues, I can barely remember a "normal" life.

I am pro-life and pro-adoption, but I'm seeing first-hand what being "given up for adoption" does to the child. Our daughter is suffering from tremendous pain that reaches its ugly tentacles to the core of her being. Although she now has a family who loves her dearly, she still sometimes feels abandoned and unwanted because of being placed for adoption by her birth mother.

Recently, after a tearful angry time, she was able to finally rationally talk to me about her feelings. We had a conversation about her birth mother that went something like this:

Me: If you could talk to your birth mother, what would you say?

Daughter: (quietly) Hi.

Me: What would you say next?

Daughter: (crying) Why did you give me away!?

I will never personally know the full extent of what my daughter feels. But I know for certain that it's extremely painful. I pray that God will heal her feelings of loss and rejection, that He will give us strength and wisdom to endure this season, and that He will be glorified.


(Note about photo: This picture of a mother and daughter from Guatemala is in honor of my cousin's newly adopted daughter.)

Sorta Like Solomon

I feel a little like Solomon, who, when he asked for wisdom, was given riches and honor as well.

In the morning I usually pray that we'll have a good day. Today, I prayed that we would just have a good Math lesson. God gave us not only a good Math lesson, but an entire good day with our daughter!

Praise God for His glorious mercy and blessing!

Please give us wisdom, strength, and patience for another Math lesson!

Serenity

Serenity. Peace. Calm. Goals that have been eluding us lately.

Our daughter continues to struggle with adoption issues. She can't figure out why her birthmother would "give her away" (her words).

Anger. Sadness. Confusion. These are very real parts of our daughter's days.

I pray without ceasing. "God, give me strength. Give me patience. Give me wisdom!"

I shared the Serenity Prayer with our daughter. I'm realizing that it applies to me, too.

The Serenity Prayer
by Reinhold Niebuhr (1892-1971)
Complete, Unabridged, Original Version.

God, give us grace to accept with serenity
the things that cannot be changed,
Courage to change the things
which should be changed,
and the Wisdom to distinguish
the one from the other.

Living one day at a time,
Enjoying one moment at a time,
Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace,
Taking, as Jesus did,
This sinful world as it is,
Not as I would have it,
Trusting that You will make all things right,
If I surrender to Your will,
So that I may be reasonably happy in this life,
And supremely happy with You forever in the next.

Amen.

(Note: photo comes from Korea; where both of our children are from)

Good Friday

Now there stood by the cross of Jesus His mother, and His mother's sister, Mary the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus therefore saw His mother, and the disciple standing by, whom He loved, He saith unto His mother, "Woman, behold thy son!" Then saith He to the disciple, "Behold thy mother!" And from that hour that disciple took her unto his own home.

After this, Jesus knowing that all things were now accomplished, that the scripture might be fulfilled, saith, "I thirst."

Now there was set a vessel full of vinegar; and they filled a sponge with vinegar, and put it upon hyssop, and put it to his mouth.

When Jesus therefore had received the vinegar, he said, "It is finished," and he bowed his head, and gave up the ghost.
John 19: 25-30 (KJV)

He Fills the Void

I am drained.



This evening I held my daughter, rocking her in my lap, while she cried, "I want my mommy."



She didn't mean me.



She meant her birth mother. Lately, she feels abandoned by her birth mother. Confused over why this young woman would place her for adoption.

I opened my Bible to show my daughter all the verses I've highlighted that apply to adoption. They are all over the place. God constantly tells us, when He adopts us into His family, we are full heirs. He fills the void in our hearts.

Dear Lord, help my daughter see the truth that we love her totally. That You love her totally. Heal her hurts. Fill the void in her soul. Give me strength. Give me patience. Show her your presence.

Contentedness

"Let your conduct be without covetousness; be content with such things as you have. For He Himself has said, 'I will never leave you nor forsake you.'"
Hebrews 13:5 (NKJV)

Two syllables. Starts with "c" and ends with "t." Similar in form, but a world apart in action. Covet or be content. Which are we going to allow to rule our lives?

If our conduct is to be without covetousness, that includes not only our actions, but our facial expressions, our words, and our tone of voice. In addition, we are to be CONTENT with what we have. We can't erect a phony facade. We must be content. Content like a kitten curled up on a quilt in the sun. Content like a baby settling in for a nap in mama's arms.

How can we do these seemingly impossible things? He promises that He will always be with us. God will never leave us, give up on us, renounce us, or abandon us. NEVER.

(Congratulations and blessings to my cousin, pictured above, who is in Guatemala, adopting her new baby daughter. This post is NOT an editorial on what's wrong in her life! I just liked the picture of contentedness; both on the part of the daughter and the mother!)

Grafted by God

Lord of all power and might, the author and giver of all good things: Graft in our hearts the love of your Name...

So began the Collect of the Day in today's worship. This had new meaning for me, having just endured a gum graft two days ago, now sitting in the pew with a swollen and slightly sore face. The dictionary states that grafting produces uniting, joining, attaching, or implanting. But, as all gardening books tell you, the process involves cutting and a period of recovery.

When we grafted our children into our family, via adoption, there was certainly some cutting and pain involved. Pain for my husband and me when we couldn't conceive, pain for the birth mothers as they decided what to do, pain as they placed their babies for adoption, and the pain that our children may yet experience in the future. But as we look at our family, the family that God built for the four of us, we can't imagine it any other way. The pain of the past subsides, and we are left with the delicious fruit of the graft.

When God grafts us into His family, there is some pain involved. There is pain when other family members reject the faith (and you, too, in the process). There is pain as you gradually come to realize just how sinful you truly are. There is pain when you see yourself struggle in life, and non-Christian friends or family experiencing "success." And yet, triumphant over all of this, is the thankfulness for God's grace and mercy, the joy of studying His Word, and the wonder of worshipping Him with fellow believers.

Just as one recovering from gum surgery, you may be tempted to think, "I felt better BEFORE the surgery! Everything was just fine!" In reality, none of us is "fine," and we weren't better before the surgery. We were dead in our sin! God, in His mercy, takes us, saves us, draws us to Himself, and graciously grafts us into His family. May we love His name and worship Him forever!

Mother's Day

That night Anne...knelt sweetly by her open window in a great sheen of moonshine and murmured a prayer of gratitude and aspiration that came straight from her heart. There was in it thankfulness for the past and reverent petition for the future...
(from Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery)

I recently read these words to my children about Anne taking first place in the college entrance exam. I thought, this is very much how I view motherhood. I am thankful for the past; for God's perfect plan for creating our family in His own time and way. And at the same time, I humbly ask Him for guidance for the future.

After 11 years of waiting, of heartbreak, of longings unanswered; the Lord filled my aching arms and soothed my aching heart. I am thankful beyond measure for my two precious children. Only the Lord of the Universe could have ordained such a treasure for us in the way that He did.

(Thanks also to Holt International Children's Services and United Airlines for playing a part! The photo above is of Harry and Bertha Holt, founders of the adoption agency that bears their name.)

Sanctity of Human Life Sunday

We were visiting a church today that did not make any mention of this being Sanctity of Human Life Sunday, so I almost forgot. Lord, forgive me.

There are only two letters of difference between the words abortion and adoption. And yet, those letters mean the difference between murder and life!

Pray that our country comes to realize that it is a life that is being ended when abortion occurs. Pray that we repent of this terrible sin.

Christmas Eve

It was exactly 11 years ago this evening that our son spent his first service in an American church. He had just arrived from Korea on Monday evening, and Saturday was December 24. So, off to the Christmas Eve service we went; a new family of three. Finally three, after fourteen Christmases as a family of two.

I still remember holding him at the service with wonder, happiness, and a healthy dose of trepidation. He held on to the edge of our hymnal as we sang the carols, and we thought he was precious. Tonight, at the Christmas Eve service, he held his own hymnal and sang the hymns with us. Some from memory. He's only 11, but can it be that his voice is getting a little lower? He's so tall and sturdy that he practically knocks me down with his hugs. We look at him sitting between us, right next to his little sister, and we nod knowingly. We are still filled with wonder, happiness, and a healthy dose of trepidation. And yes, he's still precious.

Thank you, God, for Your Son. What wonder, happiness, and trepidation You must have brought to Mary and Joseph. And what must You have felt? Knowing you had sent Your only Son to a fallen world. Knowing what He would endure. And yet loving us so much that You did it anyway!


On the way home from church this evening, our nine-year-old daughter mused, "I wonder if Jesus is celebrating His birthday in heaven?"

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

A Different Kind of Son

Kim, at Mother-Lode, directed me to a wonderful blog written by Peter Leithart. His Advent studies include some thoughts about Joseph, the adoptive father of Jesus. This caused me to be reminded of a recent conversation with my son.

My husband and I were blessed to be able to adopt both of our children. They have always known they were adopted, and the full meaning of this gradually becomes more clear to them as they grow older. A few weeks ago, our son (age 11) asked me a question about why he was so tall for his age, and the answer required a little foray into the role that genetics play in determining physical characteristics. I took out his adoption notebook full of the plethora of documents one must fill out and acquire during the adoption process. It seemed appropriate to share with him some of the information we have concerning his birth parents. When he learned that his birth father was tall and big, he smiled and said, "That's why I'm so tall!" He wanted to know more, and when I shared that the adoption agency papers described his birth mother as an introvert, and his birth father as an extrovert, he had another "light-bulb moment" and said, "That's just like me. I'm a little bit of both."

I am so thankful that we home school, and that I could answer these questions during our day, right when our son needed to know. But, I also see that God was able to teach me something from this exchange. As I ponder Joseph's role in the upbringing of Jesus, his adopted Son, I am struck with a powerful contrast. In OUR family, it is my husband and I who gradually unfold the history of our children's past for them. (This is not to negate the part that God plays in this. Just bear with me...) In Jesus's earthly family, it was HE who gradually unfolded the story of His FUTURE, His purpose for living here on earth, to Joseph and Mary. This is what Jesus always does. He takes what WE do, and turns it upside down and inside out to show Who He Is. It is His humanity that helps us to see similarities to our lives, but it is His deity that always surprises us and stretches our thinking.

And to think that I learned this because my son is tall for his age. Only God can do such wonders!