Gotchas
My life before Honduras included adoption... two of our children are adopted and one of our children is still in the adoption process. My life before Honduras had room for me to ponder all of the intricacies of adoption... the tragedy of one mother losing a child, the blessing of another mother receiving a child, the complicated feelings that an adopted child might have, whether birth order/adoption order impacts a child and so on.
I wish I had more time to think through these things now.
Today is Adam's Gotcha Day... the day that he officially and legally became a member of our family. If I give myself the space I need to think, I can remember vividly the way we all got dressed up in our best, the wee little man that sat up on the judge's desk and played with toys she had stowed away just for that moment. I remember our lawyer and his kind, soft manner. I remember the hard marble tile that clicked as my Sunday shoes took their next step.
Adam is at a very curious age. He asks many questions about his birth family. He is enamored by the fact that he had another name. He wants to hear his story over and over. He imagines his birth mama.
His adoption is not a 'family secret' that needs to be hidden in darkness. There are parts of his story his ears aren't ready to hear. But he receives the pieces as he is able.
And this mommy heart wonders. Am I doing enough for him to know he is loved? As the middle of 5 children, does he feel isolated, left out or does he feel right in the middle of it. Does my work at the school make him proud or resentful? Honest questions.
I know for certain I will never be 'enough' for him, even on my best day. But recently, my son has asked me more and more about Jesus. He has expressed an interest in putting his little faith in the hands of Jesus.
Jesus is enough. This I know.
I wish I had more time to think through these things now.
Today is Adam's Gotcha Day... the day that he officially and legally became a member of our family. If I give myself the space I need to think, I can remember vividly the way we all got dressed up in our best, the wee little man that sat up on the judge's desk and played with toys she had stowed away just for that moment. I remember our lawyer and his kind, soft manner. I remember the hard marble tile that clicked as my Sunday shoes took their next step.
Adam is at a very curious age. He asks many questions about his birth family. He is enamored by the fact that he had another name. He wants to hear his story over and over. He imagines his birth mama.
His adoption is not a 'family secret' that needs to be hidden in darkness. There are parts of his story his ears aren't ready to hear. But he receives the pieces as he is able.
And this mommy heart wonders. Am I doing enough for him to know he is loved? As the middle of 5 children, does he feel isolated, left out or does he feel right in the middle of it. Does my work at the school make him proud or resentful? Honest questions.
I know for certain I will never be 'enough' for him, even on my best day. But recently, my son has asked me more and more about Jesus. He has expressed an interest in putting his little faith in the hands of Jesus.
Jesus is enough. This I know.
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