Nine months ago. The time it takes for a baby to be knit together in the womb. Nine months ago we announced that we were beginning our journey towards adopting again.
Little did we know at that time the next nine months much more than a baby would grow.
I can honestly look back nine months ago and say I am not the same.
In the past nine months, our family has endured the death of a dear family friend, hospitalizations, divorce, a hurricane, the death of a grandparent, and a family literally ripped apart by abuse, secrets, lies, and lawsuits. In the past year we have "almost" adopted five times, all in various stages of the process.
But of all these sufferings, I can say the most painful one of all, for both myself and my husband, is processing the abuse he endured as a child. The hardest thing of all has been trying to fathom how a father can not only reject, but purposefully inflict harm, on his own flesh and blood. How a father can inflict such deep scars that even as a 31 year old man the pain can bring him to his knees.
As I sat in the room with my own mother watching her father breath through his last days on this earth this past summer, I was struck once again by the importance of the bond between parents and children. The family sat with him as he passed and all the tears were ones of sheer gratitude for the moments we had earthside with him. A few weeks later at my precious Grandpa's funeral, my Uncle rightly said it was his first blessing on this earth to be born his son.
The juxtaposition of my Grandpa's passing and my husband's deep emotional struggling with the rejection of his own father was and is hard to bear. As much as it was my mother's blessing to be born to a father who loved her deeply, was it my husband's curse to be born to a father who wounded him deeply?
As much as we like to say all suffering is on equal levels, I do not believe that is true.
Did you know the only time religion is described by God as pure and faultless is when it is involves looking after orphans in their distress? (James 1:27) Did you know that God describes himself as a father to the fatherless and receiver of those forsaken by their parents? (Psalm 27:10) Did you know that when God tells us to seek justice he tells us also to take up the cause of the fatherless? (Isaiah 1:17)
Emotional and physical orphans suffer something those of us born or adopted into imperfect-but-yet-loving families can never truly understand.
I will never know what it's like to suffer the loss that my husband has.
I will never know what it's like to have a memory of every holiday, every school event, every family function involve also a memory of indescribable pain over words said, actions taken, and people not there.
As deeply as I love him as his wife, I think I have finally learned that my love for him will never erase the pain of his past.
His panic attacks over being abandoned or seriously sick or dying are not because he is weak but because he has survived what most others do not survive. His body is still learning another way after his first panic attack at the age of 2 when his fears of being abandoned or seriously sick or dying were not just fears but realities.
His memories of incredibly difficult holidays will not be erased and replaced with happy ones just because I love him and his child loves him and other family members love him.
His relationship with God will always be a wrestle to find His presence in the dark days of his childhood, especially with his more recent knowledge that many adults, even believers, knew of his abuse and chose to remain silent.
But man I have seen God's healing in him in ways I never knew even possible. And he has taught me one of the most important lessons of my life.
Sorrow and joy can occupy the same space.
They can. They do. And the sorrow often makes the joy even more intense, if we learn to make space for it.
The sorrow of his childhood memories truly give him a deeper joy of the memories we are making with our precious daughter now. The estranged relationship he has with his own father and others in his family who have chosen to reject him, literally on the basis of who he is, makes him appreciate his family who do love and protect and support him all the more. The rejection of his father has somehow divinely made him truly the most devoted and loving father on the planet.
The other day we were driving home from a sweet night just the three of us at the beach and we truly thought our daughter Liberty was asleep. We were quietly chatting about the sunset and the joy we have in time shared, when suddenly Liberty spoke from her half-slumber in the back seat.
"Daddy and Mommy, I feel safe with you."
Oh the sorrow and joy in that moment.
Sorrow because that is what my husband so longed for as a child and never had.
And immeasurable joy because that is what he is now giving to our dear sweet Liberty.
If you come from a childhood that was marked by rejection and abuse, words cannot adequately express how sorry I am for what you have endured. Tears cloud my eyes now even as I write this because I cannot imagine the havoc is has wreaked on your life. Yet if you're reading this, you've survived and my guess is you, like my husband, are not repeating those same cycles. Be gracious to yourself. You are not weak because you still carry scars, you are a special breed of strong and no doubt God will use you to give comfort to others that you yourself have received from Him.
If you love someone who comes from a childhood that was marked by rejection and abuse, don't do like I did for years and try to fix it. Listen, intently. Try to understand but also in humility realize that you will never fully understand. Do not let your inability to understand hinder the fierceness of your love.
If you come from a childhood that was marked by unconditional love, get on your knees right now. Seriously, do it. Thank God for such an undeserved gift and pray that God will use you to encourage the broken hearted, to take up the cause of the fatherless, and to look after the orphans in their distress.
So for now, as far as our second adoption is concerned, we wait.
But we wait with expectation.
We wait with great anticipation of whatever else God will birth in us as our next baby is knit together and cast upon Him.
We wait knowing He is always the one who is responsible for the doing.
And we wait knowing that with all this suffering in between, this is going to be once again one very loved, and of course stinking adorable, little gift from above. <3
