The Conundrum Of An Interrupted Adoption
To see a family in pain is one of the hardest pieces of this adoption journey.
This difficult adoption situation required immense amounts of heart-felt compassion, the humility of there are no answers, and simple words of “I’m here for you”.
My sweet friends had “that” situation happen this week. That situation which places families in a conundrum of an interrupted adoption…
What if a family member comes forward during the process and wants to take custody of the child(ren)you have prayed for
and allowed to penetrate the depths of your heart?
I can only imagine the news would kick a family in the gut and then to it’s knees.
We enter into this journey standing on the teeter-totter balancing our weight in the middle so that we don’t fall heavy to one side of possibly becoming emotionally attached too soon or the other of guarding our heart against the possibilities that could transpire interrupting the...Read More »
photo credit:sjeele
It’s a tension that I’ve been watching build up like the storm that slowly brews miles out at sea only to make its way closer to shore.
As it moves in on some, the clouds darken the days. As winds quicken, it swirls the words through trees of social media. The harsh elements begin to pelt the heart until she can no longer withstand the storm hitting with full force, arriving in all it’s grandeur as she braces for what is about to hit her.
But not too far away for another, the sun is warm and embracing as words envelope her smile. She is enjoying the same day but in a very different condition of anticipation and excitement. For her there is only beauty, light and warmth.
In 1905, Anna Jarvis, handed out carnations to the mothers in her church as a way to honor the memory of her own mother,...
“Lord, have your way with me!”
These may seem like simple words, but they are the words that I’ve repeated over and over this past year as I’ve surrendered to God on yet another level of being broken for him alone.
I’ve grappled with the human-ness of my adoptee soul where sharing my heart and experience within the story of adoption lies in a chasm of constant tension.
This tension stretched me even further as I spent the past few days in Nashville, TN for the Christian Alliance For Orphans Summit. I originally registered as an attendee because of the workshops that pour into my life as an adoptive parent and orphan care ministry leader. I ultimately would end up at the Summit as not only an attendee, but also as an adoptee break-out session presenter.
The room assigned to “Straight Talk From Adult Adoptees” was over-flowing with attendees who sat on the floor...
Knowing the true heart of adoptive siblings is always a blessing, especially boys who seem to bottle their feelings and send them out to sea. When I stumbled upon this bottle, the message inside was one that brought tears and wonderment to this mother’s heart.
How in the world do I get the blessing of being called “mom” by 5 amazing, beautiful, wonderfully complex young humans?
Evan wrote the following essay as an “Epic Simile“{had no idea what this was} for a writing assignment at school using our court trip to Ethiopia. I happened to stumble upon it when he forgot to close out windows on the computer hence making it “fair game” for me to read.
He has given me permission to post it here on Smore Stories. So, thank you Evan for letting me share with others a glimpse inside the heart of an adoptive sibling who blesses his...
Flickr: amslerPIX
Facing loss through the death of a loved one is never an easy process.
My dear friend Sam was a man who was a tangible embodiment of Jesus here on earth. As has been spoken many times, he loved his family, loved people and loved Jesus. He was instrumental in my early days as a believer in encouraging me, teaching me and inspiring me that I could and should embark on serving the Kingdom through the local church.
I can’t remember feeling loss like this since I said goodbye to my mother in 2002.
How do we face loss yet embrace redemption?
The sudden and unexpected loss of Sam is a raw reminder of the amount of loss that I have faced in the journey of adoption.
I feel a great need to respect each precious role in the triad of birth family, adoptive family and adoptee. To take even one of them out...
It’s been quite a week to say the least. You’d think I’d be better at swallowing a big dose of spiritual warfare by now, but I’m thinking maybe that’s never an easy pill to swallow.
A week ago at this time I was in Estes Park ,CO for the Embracing Orphans Retreat. 7 of us piled in the car like school girls taking a road trip without our families. It was a wonderful, refreshing, enriching time filled with laughter, honesty, raw emotion and vulnerability. Some may cringe at this thought of being with a group of women and being “real”, but I honestly can’t wait to do it again next year. The group I was privileged to be with are amazing, godly, inspiring moms that I am so glad I got to be with. Maybe you’d join us?
We heard stories from our 4 main session speakers, Lisa Qualls, Tisha Deutsch, Julie...
Who doesn’t love a good movie? While the boys in our home like the action packed, highly testeroned, good guy vs. bad guy fliks, I more prefer the romantic love stories with good intellectual humor and the fairy tale ending.
I wasn’t aware until this week that one recently released movie, “Olympus Has Fallen“, has brought on some extremely serious racial slurs and desired acts of violence across social media. Koreans are the specific racial target with the a wide sweep including all Asians… well, you know, we all look alike after all, right?
As I read tweets posted in this link and this article exclaiming:
I learned some new things about myself. I never knew I was a “gook”. Now, I’ve been called a “kook” now and again, but really… a “gook”?
As a Korean who grew up in a community of white, Scandinavians, I’ve grown some thick skin over the years to the racial slurs...
It’s been 18 months. It feels like it’s been always. That we’ve been a family of 7, not 4.
Back in September when we had our one year celebration of being 7, I wanted to do a “reflections on our past year” type post, but to be honest, at the time it was just too hard.
We were still dealing with adjustment challenges, attachment doubts, fears, confusion, frustration, exhaustion, and even though we would have days mixed in where the clouds would part and the sun would warm our souls encouraging us to keep going, reflection was just too murky. Just too messy. Just too hard to see beyond it all.
As I moved through our church’s Good Friday Stations At The Cross and felt the sharp, cold, hard, metal barbs on the whip, I reflected on the flesh that was torn. Not only by the metal that gripped and tore through, but...