November is National Adoption Month here in the U.S. Local, state, and federal government offices, organizations and churches devote their efforts during the month of November to focus on the awareness, education, and advocacy for adoption. While the emphasis of this month tends to be more focused on foster care adoption, ALL forms of adoption are recognized as being equally important in the lives of so many families and children.
My desire this month is to write a post each day regarding adoption. I am hoping to share some personal stories of non-bloggers who have adopted or are adoptees. My goal is to share links to websites, post quotes about adoption, and share Scripture verses that relay the tenderness that our Heavenly Father has for children.
For starters though, please click on this link National Adoption Month 2012. This is the US government’s website regarding child welfare and adoption. It has some very good information and links to various websites. Thanks for reading and here’s to hoping that the month of November will stir the hearts of many to consider adoption. Children deserve permanency in their lives. After working in child welfare for so long, I have learned that once families open their hearts and homes to a children, they have opened up a new world of fresh beginnings, safety, stability, and that crucial feeling of belonging to a family.
Blessings!
Like this? How about sharing it? After all, sharing is caring!
Gosh, this was a hard post to write. I stopped, stared at the image of my cousin above, typed a little, and deleted a lot before finally deciding on how to write about her. My cousin has been gone now for quite some time. This week marks the 16th anniversary of her death. It was an extremely painful experience to lose a best friend and someone who I essentially grew up with.
Most of my friends and co-workers do not even know. It is not that I have forgotten about her…I just cannot “go there” very often. I am extremely blessed with amazing friends, but there will always be that space that only Kelly filled. The vast majority of my early life memories involve her. Cousins really do become children’s first friends.
She was only 23-years-old; yet, had many sorrows and troubles. Addictions and sadness plagued her, even though, there was a tremendous amount of sweetness, tenderness, and love buried underneath all of the dirt of life. She battled addictions for several years and though she wanted to live a full, healthy life, I think that the struggles she had were just too great for her. So much life has happened since hers ended, but she is never really too far from my thoughts.
My last words to her, while she was conscious, were “baby steps, Kelly, baby steps.” I was trying to get her to slow down with her eagerness to get out of the hospital. I knew she needed to just put one foot in front of the other and that starting a new, healthier life would be much more difficult than she probably imagined. “Baby steps”….I regretted those words. If I had known those words were my last to her, I would not have chosen them.
Moments before her death, I ran to the chapel at the hospital and pleaded with the Lord. I was not an active Christian at the time and had a lot of confusion, but I still believed in a Heavenly Father who heard our cries.
“Lord, please God, I will do anything. Please let Kelly live. Please God….she needs a miracle.”
These words stumbled off of my clumsy lips that were quivering and drenched with tears. My broken and trembling body laid over the back of the pew. My hands were clasped together and I was reaching out to the cross before me. I was alone in the chapel begging….it was just me and God. It was me bargaining for Him to deliver a miracle to my near lifeless best friend.
Soon after, this I heard my name and turned around. In the doorway, my aunt stood there shaking her head with tears rolling down her cheeks.
“She’s gone”
….silence.
….numbness.
I got up and nearly ran right into a lady wearing a white jumpsuit. I remember her brown hair for some reason, but I do not remember her face and did not know she was even in the room. She said to me, “I heard you pray and wanted to let you know that your cousin is going to be okay. It is all-Saints day.” She hugged me and I walked out of the chapel. I was not Catholic (still am not), so I really did not know what she meant, but something about my encounter with her felt good.
Several months after my cousin’s death, I prayed that God would allow me to see Kelly one more time so that I would know she was okay. My prayer was answered in a dream. We were driving around in a car listening to music just like old times when she was breathing Earthly air. No words were spoken, but I could “hear” her say “I’m okay Caroline. I’m okay.” There she sat glowing in all white with that beautiful smile on her face. There was great peace in the car and I remember not wanting the ride to come to an end. I woke up and even though it pained me to realize she was gone, I just knew that she was at peace and with the Lord. I have not dreamed of her since then, but that is okay.
I believe the Lord did grant her the miracle I so pleaded for on that fateful day. You see, Kelly had been rendered unconscious just a week or two prior to her death. She miraculously came to, asked for forgiveness, recommitted her faith in the Lord, told her family and friends that she loved them, laughed, hugged, and then passed away. That was her miracle.
I too was touched by a miracle on the day Kelly died. My aunt who ran into the chapel to let me know Kelly passed away does not remember the lady in the white jumpsuit. She told me there was no one else in the chapel with me when she came in. In other words, I believe my miracle on that day was an encounter with an angel telling me that my sweet cousin was going to be okay even though she would be leaving the Earth.
Kelly never had the opportunity to become a mom, graduate from college, start a career, own a personal computer, use a smart phone, or travel to some far off exotic place. She did not get to stand next to me at my wedding, attend my adoption hearings, and watch how my story of infertility unfolded. I know she would have been so in love with my babies and would have cherished them as much as I do. I believe a part of her will always be with me during all of the moments I share with my children.
I look forward with great anticipation and joy at the reunion I will have with her in Heaven. I look forward to breathing in the same celestial air that she is breathing and to shine with her in the glory of the Lord. But, for now, I will continue to hold her in that quiet space that belongs only to her. I will continue to think of her every time I see tulips and daisies. And, I will continue to rejoice in the miracles that occurred during that week when Kelly danced her way into Heaven.
Love You, Kelly
Like this? How about sharing it? After all, sharing is caring!
I asked God, “How much time do I have before I die?” He replied, “Enough to make a difference.” — Unknown
Call me strange, but I enjoy browsing through quotes on various topics of interest. I love it when a quote catches my eye and causes that silent but golden “aha” moment. The quote above is one of them. I have often wondered “Am I really making a difference in this world?” “Do my actions, whether part of my job or not, really help to create something new and hopeful for someone else?”
Through my years working in social services, I have heard many social workers say the same thing when questioning if their footprints (I’m not talking carbon footprints) on this Earth are making positive differences in the lives of others. Social work is incredibly draining. It is both a blessing and a burden. Those of us in the child welfare field go to work knowing full well that our “job demand” really does exist because families are in crisis, children are being hurt, and lives are in chaos.
I have heard that once child welfare (whether as a foster parent, juvenile officer, or case manager) “gets in your blood”, it is hard to get it out. I believe that. I suspect that even those who have left the field continue to think about the children they worked with who may now be young adults trying to make it in the world. Often, I think about the children I have worked with over the years. I wonder how they are. I wonder if they ever got what they were looking for…although so many did not even know what that was. Did I really make a difference in their lives?
I like the quote above because it reminds me that each day is a new opportunity to make a difference in the world. It reminds me of the absolute responsibility and beauty of life itself. The joy of living is also tied into the duty of sharing that joy with others. The grace of waking up each day feeling safe and loved is a gift that deserves to be shared with others and is just enough to make a difference.
Like this? How about sharing it? After all, sharing is caring!
Yesterday, we took the kids out to local park to take some pictures. I planned their outfits, made sure their faces were clean, and properly instructed them to not wipe anything (crumbs from their snack) on their shirts. I am not a “photographer” at all, however, have a decent camera and every once in a while, I get lucky and capture a fantastic moment!
As we were walking along the trail and stopping to snap off some pictures, I tried to instruct them to look at me more often, not walk into the tall weeds, or stay on the trail, etc….but I do not think they were paying too much attention. Their agenda was to have a good time while mine was to get some good photos of them.
We came across a partially dried up creek bed where we stopped to let the kids throw rocks in the water. I said to them “Do not get in the water. If you step in the water you will fall.” I took a quick picture of them and was preparing to take some more when my daughter took one step onto the slimy rock and down she goes.
right before the fall
Being the drama queen that she is, she screamed at the top of her lungs while partially soaked in water with the slime of algae on her. The people walking on the trail were staring at us. My son just continued to throw rocks into the water as if nothing happened. My husband was laughing, although he was trying to hide it from me. I quickly pulled my camera up, took a deep breath, and said “I told you that if you stepped in the water, you will fall down. We have to leave now.” To be honest, I was fuming inside and did not see any of the humor my husband found in it!
This morning while thinking about our day yesterday, the Lord impressed this upon me. “Caroline, how many times have I told you to step back from the edge? How many times have you fallen, and stood up soaking with the slime of sin?”
Wow – our Lord never fails to turn life into a lesson.
He is the best example I have of being a parent who finds joy with my children even when things don’t go “my” way. He is the forgiving parent who does not pack up and walk away. He is the gracious parent who still wants to capture my moments of beauty despite the fact that I just wallowed in the mud.
Thank you, Lord, for reminding me that grace is truly one of the most important gifts a parent gives a child.
Like this? How about sharing it? After all, sharing is caring!
This past weekend I was taken by surprise when an X-ray completed on my son that was intended to evaluate whether or not he had pneumonia revealed something else. The doctor walked into the room and asked if I have ever had any concerns about his heart. As the conversation developed, I began to realize that I know virtually nothing about his genetic medical history. I stood there and felt a little panicked at all that I do not know.
These four words, “I DO NOT KNOW”, are words that I have had to say to medical professionals about both of my children through the years. I get angry when I do not have the answers or clues needed that could assist in seeking results or directing the path that doctors need to take. I know though that even parents who are raising biological children do not always have the answers needed when discussing medical history, and that medical conditions are not always related to genetic history. I mean, look what happened at me!
As an adoptive parent though, I feel very helpless when standing in front of medical staff with barely anything to add. My thoughts go from frustration, to anger, and then to guilt. I feel frustrated for not being able to help. I get angry at realizing that poor choices by my children’s birth mothers could lead to health problems for my children. I also get angry knowing that it is almost nearly impossible for people who have been adopted to find out their medical histories. Often, they have to get attorneys to subpoena the courts to open the record. It is not an easy process at all. I understand protecting the birth family’s and adoptive family’s right to privacy, but when it comes to medical history, adoptees should have the right to know as much as they can.
The guilt sometimes comes from not finding out as much as possible before the adoptions were finalized, or for not pushing for answers from case workers and biological family members if possible. I do not blame the case workers at all (I was once one and my husband is currently one). I just wish getting the information would have been easier. I know that I asked as many questions as possible about their genetic medical history. It seems though that each time something comes up and I do not have an answer for, I feel guilty. Looking back, I wish I would have listed out every disease process and used a yes/no system to ask questions about genetic history.
I was talking to another adoptive parent the other day about these issues and we both agreed that it is different from raising biological children. Let me clearly state though that It is NOT different in the love, effort, and energy poured out when parenting. It is NOT different in the genuine sense of knowing our children are “ours”. But, there are different issues that adoptive parents face. My friend who adopted privately has had to face similar issues. Her son is now an adolescent so she was able to share with me how she has faced some of the unknowns and questions her son has had through the years.
There are many unknowns in adoptive parenting. I do not know if any other significant medical problems will develop as they age. I do not know what my children will think or feel about being adopted as they grow up. I do not know my children’s biological grandparents’ names, histories, or any other valuable information that could be passed on. I have very, very few pictures of their birth mothers and fathers. I do not know if they will look for their birth parents (although I am open to assisting them with this). I do not know if they will get angry for not having more open contact through the years.
My son is okay. It was just an incidental finding related to respiratory issues. His heart is healthy and he is going to be fine. I can relax now. I can stop stewing over the conversations about health issues that I should have had with his case worker and birth mother. I have come to realize that adoptive parenting is an incredibly complex; yet, amazing experience. I am also realizing that I must walk in faith when it comes to navigating the unknowns.
If you are an adoptive parent (especially out of foster care), do you have any nuggets of wisdom you have gleaned through the years that you would like to share? If so, please comment as I am always seeking out ways to understand the complexity of adoptive parenting.
Like this? How about sharing it? After all, sharing is caring!
The first night I started this blog, I had no idea really what the heck I was doing. I just felt the urge to write. It started when I began to journal about my hysterectomy a few years ago. I guess I held so much in over the past 25+ years that once I started writing, there was not an end in sight. I do not want to stop. Writing is therapeutic, and each time I write, I learn from it. I am pretty sure most bloggers can relate to this.
I know I am not the best writer and often make grammatical mistakes, but writing is not about perfection anyway (at least in my opinion). Writing, like life, has moments of grit, sorrow, heroism, and laughter. Writing has given voice to the imperfections of my life and to the yearning to be understood in the world. Writing releases the words my heart wants to say.
I have to be honest, I really did not spend a lot of time coming up with my blog name. Growing up knowing I would not be able to have biological children caused me to think of my barren self as being cursed. I do not mean cursed in the witch-crafty, voodoo kind of way necessarily; although I wondered that from time to time soon after it happened. For whatever reason, I felt that I was intentionally blocked from having a “normal” life. Of course, now that I am an adult, I do not know of anyone who has had a “normal” life.
Adding children to my life has given me a taste of living a life outside of my own. Parenting children continues to bring meaning and sense to life and the things that have happened. But, the meaning behind my blog name is more than just about the children. I walked a long and difficult road to see the Lord for who He is in my life. I was void (barren) of listening to His will, reading His word, and leaning on His hope. I did not see a purpose for what happened. I could not see the light at the end of the tunnel…until I saw the Light that is Him.
The Lord was calling me back to Him long before I even gave a thought about becoming a foster/adoptive parent. My blog name obviously represents the blessings that come from children. If my life ended up without children, there would have been sadness of course. I know that. However, I also know that life in Christ is a life worth living and for that I am truly blessed.
Like this? How about sharing it? After all, sharing is caring!
“Caroline, I learned raising you with all of your health problems that you can’t borrow trouble.”
The quote above is from a conversation today with my mom about my son’s health. A routine trip to the urgent care to make sure that bronchitis or pneumonia had not declared itself in my son’s lungs turned into a six-hour ordeal involving multiple breathing treatments and more doctor’s appointments and testing to come. I’ll know more this week and am really trying to not borrow trouble, but I’m also really good at it. If it was a salaried talent, I would be a “zillionairre” by now!
I admit there is hypocrisy with me in this area. I just wrote a post about not allowing life’s distractions (Distractions, Distractions) to get in the way of keeping focus on the Lord, and here I am just a few days later getting distracted by the “what if’s”, “why now’s”, and tomorrow’s worries that may or may not even come to fruition. I will suggest to others to not fret over what may or may not be a problem. I’ll quote scripture and encourage others to pray, but often I do not take my own advice as well as I would like to admit.
I do not believe that the Lord wants us to fret over situations. We are to cast all of our cares onto Him in good faith knowing that He has already declared the victories in our lives. The walk on this Earth is hard. Our money runs out, our relationships lay in ruins, and our bodies break-down; yet, He never changes.
HE.NEVER.CHANGES
While my mom told me not to borrow trouble, she also suggested to be prepared. Learn about possible conditions, think through scenarios, and be open to the possibility that health matters can become serious. She knows this first hand from raising me. You can learn a little bit more about her in my post titled Mother’s Resilience that I wrote on Mother’s Day. She has always told me to “trust my gut and intuition” when it comes to my children. I feel that this gift is one the Lord has given to women. That ability proved invaluable when she was raising me. Her persistence and determination to get answers played a big role in saving my life during my illness.
So for now, I am going to walk in faith trusting the instinct the Lord has granted me with my children and trusting Him to work out the details. I am going to put as much effort as I can to focus on the hope that comes from the Lord instead of the hap-hazards of being human. Regardless of the outcome, I have comfort knowing that the Lord already has tomorrow’s troubles in His Heavenly Hands.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
– Jeremiah 29:11
Like this? How about sharing it? After all, sharing is caring!
Wow! I have been really distracted this week. My daughter has been a real pistol lately (okay she’s almost four, so I’ll give her a break), my son’s allergies appear to be creeping him closer to bronchitis despite the medications and various attempts to keep him healthy, a situation involving an extended family member has filled me with concern, my job is busy, my husband’s job is busy (he too works in child welfare), and, well, the toaster caught on fire. I’m talking flames shooting out of it heading right towards our cabinets. What does the toaster catching on fire have to do with all of this? We were distracted!
Here’s a picture of the toaster that got a little toasted itself this week!
While toasting taco shells for dinner, we got busy talking and stopped paying attention to the toaster oven. One of the shells fell to the bottom somehow and caught on fire. I frantically opened the toaster door which added air to the fire which then caused the flames to shoot up over it right towards our cabinets. Clearly, the training I have had in how to put out fires did not even register! My husband quickly grabbed the oven, ran outside, threw it on the ground, and poured water over it. Within a few seconds, the smoke alarm was going off, my children were screaming, and the kitchen and hearth room were full of smoke….which of course, has added to the challenge of keeping my son’s bronchial issues minimal this time of year.
It was not a major fire or anything like that, but that brief moment of not paying attention could have turned into something far worse. The smell of thick smoke stayed with us throughout the evening despite our attempts at clearing out the air in the house. Since this happened, I have been thinking about the variety of distractions I have in life that often cause me to lose sight at times of my relationship with the Lord.
Work, laundry, children, parents, husband, more laundry, errands, and of course, laundry – these are all components that fill up my days, my thoughts, and my responsibilities. I usually do not even realize how distracted I have become until I am at church and focus only on Him. It is like an “ahh” and “aha” moment every Sunday morning. I sit there thinking only of my faith in the Lord, my hope in Him, my walk with Him, and that Glorious Day when He returns. But then, as the sun sets on Sunday, the laundry basket starts looking more like a laundry tower, the kids start yearning for me as they know the weekend is coming to an end, and I start thinking about all that will be required of me throughout the work week.
I do not want to sound like I am complaining. I feel 100% blessed to have the opportunity and ability to work, to have a home to clean, to have children to bathe, to have a husband, and to have errands to run. I see all of these things as gifts and do not want to take them for granted. Life is just busy.
However, I still keep thinking about the fire in the toaster. How many times have I come close to stepping into a fiery situation because of taking my eyes off of the Lord? How close have I come to being burned because of my distractions? Like the smell of smoke that lingered, how has the residue of sin lingered in my life?
The Scripture verse I am drawn to when thinking about this is Matthew 6:25-34. The lessons I take from these verses is not to worry. However, as I think further, I realize that distractions in life can sometimes be based on worry.
25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?
28 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
I take away from this the reminder that the Lord is never so distracted that He fails to meet our needs. He keeps His eyes on us all of the time. He will never be too sidetracked by our busy schedules, or overflowing laundry baskets, or screaming children, to meet us where we are. He will provide for us even though we are frantically trying to provide for ourselves.
I think it is funny how the Lord used a burning toaster and some very over-cooked taco shells to bring me back to thoughts of Him. Thank you Lord for your sense of humor! I pray the only real distractions I have are ones that always point me right back to Christ.
Like this? How about sharing it? After all, sharing is caring!
BARREN TO BLESSED 