Behind the Picket Fence

She stood there, cautiously baring her heart to me. Her words said to me that she thought I had it together. She thinks I know what the heck I’m doing every day when I wake up and all the things from near and far are calling my name. 

Instantly my mind went back to a few days ago when I found myself weeping uncontrollably under the covers and pillows on my bed, my bedroom door locked to the demands of my kids, and my heart physically aching in my chest because I miss my jungle family so much and the loneliness is sometimes too much for me to stand under, so I cave. 

Turns out, I’m human like the rest of ‘em.

My house has a white picket fence. It’s quintessential irony calls to me every day when I check the mail or take out the trash or mow the lawn in the monotonous day to day. 

I gave this all up once, you know. Willingly. Joyfully. I turned it all in for a life overseas. All that I had been called to became my reality. 

And then Jesus said, suddenly and unexpectedly, it was time to sacrifice a different way. 

It was the harder to say yes that time. 

Now I find myself at Walmart and still, two years back on this side of the border, I fight another anxiety attack because the aisles seem so long and toilet paper options seem like a task of decision making prowess that I’m just not equipped for. 

But those are not the photos we put on social media are they? Of our struggle to reconcile broken dreams with the beautiful life given. Of not being able to relate or not being understood because suddenly you are thousands of miles from everyone who knows you best. 

I never post an instastory of me losing it with my daughter because the lies seem insurmountable and never ending and five years into this confusing and refining role of adoptive mom to a child with a hurtful past, I still feel as lost as ever many (most?) days. And there are harsh words and apologies and lies followed by truth revealed and lessons learned for both of us. Tears and hugs and another step forward after two steps back. 

It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do to face myself in this mirror of adoption. And it’s a lonely road when others just don’t get it. 

And I have never snapped a selfie when I’m crying on the bathroom floor, shoulders slumped because I feel so inadequate and useless under the weight of raising awareness for the many tangible needs of our jungle family. I struggle to find the balance of here-meets-there, where kids are being abused on every corner and we need funds to reach them but also laundry is piling up and my own kids need me to teach them math and reading and how to tie their shoes.

These just scratch the surface of the social-media “non-worthy” items. 

All the while Jesus whispers to me every day, “Cease from striving.” I can almost hear it as though it were an audible voice calling to me. 

And I don’t know yet what it looks like to live that out. 

So I wake up early and lean in hard. I physically open my hands, achy heart and shaky knees, and ask Jesus to show me He is real here, too, in what feels like lonely loss. He wasn’t only real back when I thought I knew His plans for my life. My preconceived and naive ideas of who He is and what He has called me to isn’t enough. He is bigger and better and His ways are true and good. 

My calling is not to know all the things. It is to trust Him. To look to Him alone.

Even when I feel lost and inadequate. Even when I see another Facebook post that reminds me I’m here and not there or this way and not that. 

I shut out the voices that can't see my heart and I trust the One who can.

It still leaves me breathless in tears many days. It’s ok to grieve what was lost (or perhaps just reassigned). 

Most days, I choose to run back into hope and gratefulness. And you see it. 

Other days, I collapse in sadness, fear, doubt. And you don’t. 

So when I post a photo on Instagram and it appears that I’m living a perfect life, remember it’s my highlight reel. There is a behind the scenes, too.

But instead of focusing on all that feels taken, I focus on what is given. 

Rather than honing in on what makes my heart ache inside my chest, I hone in on what makes my soul glad. 

In place of what appears to have been lost, I look for what I know to be found. 

Because wouldn’t you know it, that adorable white picket fence doesn’t close properly. You have to lift it up and pull it ever so particularly for it to shut all the way. Life’s like that, too. No matter what it may look like on the outside, it’s always harder and more finicky than you think it should be. 

Don’t believe the lie that says anyone has it all together. They don’t. You don’t. I don’t. We are all just humans with struggles. 

And really, if you think about it, that’s good news... because it is precisely why we all need Jesus.

These Demons are Pretty

“Go watch Elliott,” Richard said to me very seriously.

I stepped into the kitchen in our tiny wooden jungle home and looked out onto the back patio where Elliott liked to play in the big water basin. He was three and a half and full of imagination and wonder at all the things the world had to offer. I watched as he played contently, then glanced up into the virgin jungle behind our home. Then a smiled spread across his face as he waved enthusiastically. That’s when my own smile faded.

That Time We Moved to Mexico

I love to write. It’s something God has gifted me with and I love to use it to share what He’s doing in and through His Body in the jungle. I’m passionate about it.

But something I’ve noticed in this social-media-saturated culture is that people are overwhelmed by media. Pictures, articles, words. They are all over our phones, tablets, computers, billboards, TVs.

It’s numbing.

So in keeping with my desire to always be transparent, I’ll be honest and say I feel so often like my words are useless. Like I’m sharing my passions... with a wall. And that can be disheartening. We’ve spent nearly four years of our lives doing some crazy awesome things on this beautiful journey that God has led us on. We can hardly believe the things God is doing and I want to share those with everyone and yet... not many people care.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Some people care deeply. And there are a few people who have consistently written us and encouraged us over the last four years and several have been faithful to pray and give. And we are so thankful because at times their words and prayers have been what God has used to sustain us. 

Loneliness has been a companion these last four years. But God has been faithful to use that for His glory and our good. We’ve seen Him build up a community of people in the jungle, nearly all locals, that we now call family.

Unfortunately, we’ve had many share their opinions on our lives from afar. Most of whom have never actually visited the work that God is doing in the jungle. They don’t know the names of our Brothers and Sisters laboring and sacrificing there. They don’t write or pray or give. They don’t know us. But they comment nonetheless, making judgment calls from afar.

And that’s ok. I’ve been guilty of the same in other peoples’ lives.  It’s hard to understand something you haven’t experienced. I pray that they can see, but maybe that’s not what God has. That’s ok, too.

While I’m slowly but surely losing the desire to try to get everyone to understand something that I can’t fully grasp—the fact that God’s ways are not ours and often our plans fall flat as we follow His leading instead—I feel like I owe it to those who have been on this journey with us to tell the story of how God is moving us.

In September we are moving to Mexico.

Ok. So the reality is, it’s actually Laredo, Texas, which is on the border of Mexico ("I can see Mexico from my house!"). But if you’ve ever been there, you know that it’s a lot more like Mexico than the US of A! 

This may seem really sudden to some of you. And in some ways it is. In other ways, however, God has had this transition in the works for quite some time. The last time we had genuinely considered that God was leading us this way was in 2014. God had closed doors to aviation in Brazil. We still felt very strongly that our calling was to use aviation as a means of spreading the Gospel when God put an aviation job offer for Laredo, TX in front of us. We prayed. We fasted. We sought godly counsel. And we decided that was the direction God was leading us. It would allow us to fund Grace House as well as the other ministries much more efficiently. So, we pursued it wholeheartedly {is there any other way to do it?}. Heck, we had even told several supporters and supporting churches about it. Then God slammed that door closed through Mariclene’s inability to immigrate to the US.

We were thoroughly confused to say the absolute least.

But after a brief period of disappointment and feeling totally perplexed, we hoped right back in the saddle again and saw God do some incredible things. Grace House roots grew deeper along with the relationships He had given us in Benjamin. We moved across the border into Colombia where Richard began avidly working towards opening an air ambulance. We got to know amazing people in Leticia, where God gave us new relationships and lives to speak into as well as some of our now closest friends. It was also during that time that The Donut Company was born.

To be honest, we were feeling quite settled! We laughed about the time we thought we were moving back Stateside and we began to plan what life would look like spending the rest of it right there in Leticia. The Air Ambulance had the potential to fund all of the work, employ locals, help meet physical needs, and fulfill our calling to use aviation as a tool for the Gospel. Boom. The whole package.

Then January 2016 rolled around and God closed the door to the air ambulance. And what’s more, we had really worked ourselves out of a job. Grace House is growing and we have seen truly incredible spiritual growth among the community of believers in the small town of Benjamin. Marcos and Josi continue to rock it with the young men in their discipleship program and we simply help fund their efforts and provide encouragement and support the Javari Project. The Donut Company is growing and totally operated by locals. Of course we were heavily involved in the day to day, but we had to come to the realization that, while we could continue to work hard with our brothers and sisters, we still felt like a part of our calling was being neglected. And certainly not through lack of effort! God had divinely opened and closed doors, leading us on a crazy adventure that we never imagined.

So we just began praying. Would God have us move to another country for mission aviation? Would he reopen a door in this region? We just didn’t feel led a specific way.

Fast-forward to February when we get the news that Mariclene’s immigration was finally approved after two and a half years of waiting. We were stoked! We made plans to travel to the States for her citizenship interview and stay for about two months to raise more funds for the crazy awesome things God was doing. So much is happening and there are so many needs, that the primary need was funds.

So we came to the US and in the first week must have said to one another at least a dozen times, “I never want to live here again!” It’s just this massive reverse-culture shock. It’s hard to explain until you experience it, but it’s very real. We were still praying that God would lead us if He had a new direction for our family in aviation but we were also counting down the days to our return to Leticia {home}.

That’s when the e-mail came late one evening from the same friend from two years back, the first communication about a job since that time.

“Would you still be interested in a job in Laredo?”

I knew the look on Richard’s face when he showed me the e-mail. I immediately pushed it off and told him I had no desire to even discuss that. Absolutely not. No.

But the reality was I already knew in my heart that it was time. We had been in regular contact with our ministry partners in Benjamin and Leticia and they were doing great! Not to say they weren’t passing through trials. They were. Some pretty serious ones in fact. But they were thriving in the peace of God. They were growing, discipling, reaching out, going above and beyond, loving, giving, serving.

And they didn’t need us in the day to day. Honestly, it was a blow to realize that. Don’t get me wrong, I totally rejoiced in it, too!

That’s the point after all, right? To disciple others who disciple others and so on.

Our dreams have actually come true.

But these are my people. They have walked through the valleys of darkness and suffered with us. We’ve cried and laughed together for going on four years. I wanted to be there, enjoying the fruits of our labor. After so many years of loneliness and isolation, we finally have a community that is on fire!

And now, it is time to move on to the next location.

I’m not going to lie. I’ve fought God on this one. I’ve cried until my heart physically aches and there aren’t any more tears. This is all my kids have known. This is all we have worked for for the last seven years, to love and reach the lost in the Amazon region.

So what does this mean now? Why would He take us from the Jungle to the Desert?

Well, I can assure you it’s not because we are wishy-washy as some accuse. It’s not because we don’t know what we really want as others have said. In fact, we could technically be flying in Brazil OR Colombia right now had we been willing to compromise some really strong convictions (but that’s another story). It isn’t because we couldn’t handle it. (Although, I will say that NO ONE can handle it. Absolutely no one. Only Christ in us and in others can sustain in such a difficult place.) No, it’s none of those things.

The reality is, our calling is apostolic in nature. That means that by nature we equip and move on, much like Paul did. We’ve seen that has been the course that God has led us on our whole life. (If that confuses you, join the club. We are learning this role.)

We’ve spent the last few months “rearranging” a bit with the Amazon Network. We are learning our new role in the Body as advocate for the jungle and we are praying hard and looking with anticipation as to what God has for us in Laredo.

One of the most beautiful things about it is that by us coming off of support, those funds can now go directly to the work in the jungle. Grace House, The Donut Company, the Javari Project can now be funded more efficiently which means there is more opportunity for growth. We’ve already seen new outreaches being launched from the network and more Brothers and Sisters join our family--your family.

It’s incredible how God works in the most organic of ways when we truly allow His Spirit to guide.

We want it to be clear that we are not leaving the network or the work there. We will continue to visit frequently and we have daily communication. We are advocates for our Brothers and Sisters there and continue to fund-raise and raise awareness. But now the funds will be liberated and we can start again in Laredo, trusting the Holy Spirit to lead us as we seek to serve the least of these there.

Pray for us all as we make this transition. We sold everything before we moved nearly four years ago so it’s very much like starting over physically as well as mentally. It’s a strange thing to be back in the city you grew up in and yet feel like you know no one. You miss a lot in four years and reverse culture shock is a doozie.

If you have questions, feel free to ask us. We have always strived to be transparent so we welcome feedback and dialogue.

Thank you to all of you who are walking this journey with us. We greatly appreciate each of you and we look forward to the adventures ahead!


This is not the end of the book, just a new chapter... I hope you’ll continue reading.

A little recap of our life for the last four years....

His Kingdom, Right Here {Part 3}

I glanced up at his face while she told me about the boy that had hung himself just two days prior. He had the same look I’d seen before—one of resilience but also desperation. It’s a fierce kind of look that he seems to carry with him everywhere.

And how could you not bare that expression when you live in this reality of dark forces all around yet you yourself are full of Light? The contrast is harsh.

They’d invested in the young man who chose to take his own life after a fall-out with his wife. He had lived on their grounds like the dozens of other boys that they care for and invest in, including his own brother. They’d spoken Hope and Truth over him. And yet, the darkness prevailed.

It’s a heavy burden to carry and one that’s weight is exaggerated all the more when you find yourself isolated in the depths of the Amazon jungle.

She went on to tell me more about the six-year-old boy who rejoined their family after having been taken away from them by missionaries without their consent—the son of a witchdoctor, mysteriously entrusted to their care. She told me stories that give goosebumps. They’re the kind of stories that missionaries like to tell from the front of America’s air-conditioned church buildings. They make good fundraising material.

But it’s not so glamorous when it’s your reality, this kneeling down early in the morning to pray away the evil. There are 19 young men who live on their property with them. Each with their own story, their own past. Some are Christ-followers now. Others quite the opposite.  All of them hearing and experiencing the Love that surpasses tribal cultures and languages and myths and strongholds.

But not all of them experiencing the freedom that comes from knowing the True Healer, Father, Life-giver.

Little nine-month-old Sofia bounced in her lap as she continued to unload these burdens and my mind tried to reconcile all of the disparities of young men overcome by darkness with bouncing infants in all the innocence, wondering how Hope can prevail in all of this hopelessness.

And then it hits me that the Hope is sitting right in front of me. It is Josi, sitting with her daughter whom she will raise up to know Jesus as her Father. It is Marcos, with his hand on his son Lucas’s back, whom he will teach what it means to be a Christ-follower. It is little Tepi, learning from Marcos in the wee hours of the morning as they swing together in the hammock, speaking of the True Chief. 

It’s the day to day of hard prayers and hard Truth being spoken on their property on a little parcel of land in the midst of the jungle as they invest in the lives and futures of these young indigenous men who will go back to their tribes and communities, armed in the darkness with the True Light.

There is Hope. And it’s a Hope that prevails through the darkest of places and the pierces the coldest of hearts. It’s through the day in and day out. The bending and pouring out of lives spent for the broken. It's each of us investing in our own disciples, the children He has entrusted to us. It's the dying to of self and dreams and plans for the sake of the one. It's believing that He is True and His Love is worth the cost. 

It's building His Kingdom, right here. 

“The people who live in darkness 
have seen a great light, 
and for those living in the shadowland of death, 

light has dawned.”

Matthew 4.16

This is a multi-post series. See His Kingdom, Right Here {Part One} and {Part Two}.

Visit www.onthebeautifuljourney.com for more information on what God is doing through the Amazon Network. 

His Kingdom, Right Here {Part 1}

It was about three years ago last month that God brought one of the most incredible women I’ve ever met right to our front door.

It was dark out and we were settling down into our wooden home at the end of a crumbling road in a crumbling society. We opened the door with hesitation and anticipation. We didn’t know anyone in this small town and, as the new foreign family in town, we were targets for scammers. Our guards were cautiously up. She introduced herself as Rosa (pronounced “Hoh-za”) and her daughter as Vandrena.

I tried in my broken Portuguese to understand and be understood as she told us her story and we shared a bit of ours. And so a friendship was born.

The timing of this meeting wasn’t by chance at all. We had only recently died to some pretty big dreams and were doggy-paddling our way to whatever it was God had for us next.

We didn’t know the Kingdom was already on this street. His Body was alive here. And He would allow us to be a part, to find our place.

We began pouring ourselves out. Our doors stayed open. Our table stayed full. Our hearts stayed broken. Rosa showed us the ropes of working among the poor. We learned from her unconditional love and she learned from our unwillingness to give in to pressures from the naysayers.

I’ll never forget when we were sitting in our kitchen floor chatting one day about life and she was talking about her middle son coming back home. He had been away for about a year and she was telling him about us.

“He asked what you guys were like. I told him you guys were simple people, just like us...”

She went on to say other things that I don’t remember now and had no idea that she had just spoken words of hope and life into my heart. Because that’s exactly what we wanted her to see. That we are her peers, her equals. The white man didn’t come here to save, but rather to serve.

We walked an almost two year journey together with Rosa on that street and watched and loved and served and taught and gave and cried and laughed and lived. A house was constructed that would bring more children to the feet of Jesus. More bellies were fed and neighbors loved. Drunks were picked up out of the streets and Pharisees sneered. We invited in the rejected and those hooligan BMX kids. We built water systems and funded small business endeavors. I learned to scale fish (earning the nickname “mermaid”) and how to cut a whole chicken. I encouraged and listened, gave and received.

And so many seeds were planted during those trial-filled years. And by God’s glory we get to watch some of the flowers already blooming and even some fruit starting to grow.

Rosa is now the Director of Grace House Amazon which is home to four children: Cairara, Mariclea, Frankie, and Michele. We have been able to expand her influence exponentially by empowering her and speaking words of truth into her life. She continues to pursue what God called her to twenty years ago and what she was already doing, and God has used us to facilitate that in new ways. The feeding program is well underway, feeding 10-15 street kids Monday-Friday. Many kids are being tutored in math and reading in the afternoons.

Rosa’s oldest son, Boboco, whom Richard taught small business skills and discipled, is investing in the lives of young boys through soccer ministry every week. Her middle son, Pepeco, whom Richard discipled for a year and a half and is one of his closest friends, is pastoring the kids at Grace House as well as his own family as they face trials and struggles on a daily basis.

Our former neighbor on that street, Aurilene, is now the Assistant Director of Grace House and serves these kids selflessly every week. She has come so far from the shy, introvert that we first met as she now boldly stands up for what is good and right in a society of critics. She and her husband took in her niece and began raising her as their own. Then they took in his nephew. They know that there is joy in sacrifice. They've seen it with their own eyes. 

There is something so beautiful when we recognize that this thing isn’t ours at all. We are a small part of a big Body. We each have a role to play and it’s an important one. But it’s no more important than any other part. When we humbly submit to one another in love. When we are quick to hear, slow to speak, and slow to anger. When we esteem the other as better than ourselves. When we trust God’s timing. When we accept that God not only created different cultures, He is glorified in those cultures. When we realize His ways are not our ways.

When we truly DIE to ourselves.

That’s when we get a little glimpse of what Christ meant when He prayed, “May Your Kingdom come. May Your will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.” All of His followers, walking in unity just as He commands, for His glory and the edification of His Body. And the world watches and wonders at it all. And we invite them in, too.

And man, is the journey breathtakingly beautiful.

“I assure you: Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains by itself. But if it dies, it produces a large crop. The one who loves his life will lose it, and the one who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. If anyone serves Me, he must follow Me. Where I am, there My servant also will be. If anyone serves Me, the Father will honor him.” –John 12.24-26

This is a multi-series post. See Part 2 and Part 3.

Six Things Not to Say to an Adoptive Parent

I recently posted a blog that I have been working on for some time. It took me a while to write it because I wanted to be sure it accurately conveyed my heart but was honest about something that it seems is lacking in the adoption community. I wrote it knowing that I was opening myself up for criticism, but I felt like God was prompting me to post it so I held my breath and hit “Post”.

And I’m so glad I did.

Because turns out there are a lot of families out there walking this path and when I posted it, it was like I came upon an oasis in this desert land. A place where other families were drinking deep from the Living Water who is our strength on this journey and for those without strength to kneel down, they brought a cup to them and said, “Here. This will give you hope”. Within a week I got dozens of e-mails of people sharing their stories of struggle and hope and faith and joy and tears and questions about their precious and dearly loved adopted children who are struggling for various reasons. Some on the brink of giving up. Others who have been fighting this battle much longer than me. Others with victories to share.

So many moms and dads commented and wrote me saying, “We are together in this! God is faithful! Stay strong!” Wow, what a blessing for the Body of Christ to step up and without judgement say words of hope and healing. I was left crying and praising and praying many times throughout the week. So humbling.

“Anxiety in a man’s heart weighs it down, but a good word cheers it up.” Proverb 12.25

Aaaannnndddd I also got several not-so-nice comments, too. Which is fine! God used those to help me see the full spectrum of this thing. So many people DON’T understand the trails that the special needs of a child can bring a family. Honestly, if I hadn’t experienced this trial myself, I would probably be pretty critical and skeptical, too.

And it led me to this post. Here are six things that I can say, at least for myself as an adoptive parent, that we don’t need to hear:

What Not to Say: “You need parenting classes.”

This one was sort of random to me, but I thought I would mention it because, let’s be honest, that’s rarely a nice to say to someone. I know there are “parenting classes” out there and fantastic ministries that focus on the challenges and joys of parenting. And don’t we all need tips and advice on how to navigate these parenting waters?? The truth is it can be a doozy no matter your child’s bloodline! I know I personally read blogs often about parenting and they are many times convicting and enlightening, challenging and encouraging as my husband and I strive to raise our kids to know and love the Lord. Buuuuuut when someone is sharing a parenting trial and reaching out for community, they likely know already that they don’t have all the answers. If they did, they wouldn’t be posting, right?

A Better Thing To Say: “Here are some things that have worked for our family.”

If you genuinely feel that someone needs some help in their parenting techniques or approaches, it would be more productive to offer up what has worked for your family. Maybe it would work for theirs as well. Or, maybe just recognize that they have weaknesses and need some encouraging words.

“There is one who speaks rashly, like a piercing sword; but the tongue of the wise brings healing.” Proverbs 12.18

What Not to Say: "You deserve it."

This was probably the harshest of the negative comments.

There were a few people with this remark actually (which really surprised me) but one in particular stood out. Her words were actually, “Because you purchased a child from overseas. You treated yourself to a thrill. You knew it was wrong, didn't give a damn and did it anyways. 
It's kind of awesome to see selfish baby buyers getting exactly what they deserve.”

I assume the anonymous commenter has had a poor experience with the international adoption system as they made reference to people “buying” their children from overseas. She went on to say she had three that she adopted from the US (for which I assume she didn’t have to pay any money for the process). Perhaps they have had or have heard of first hand experiences with some of the terribly corrupt practices in the adoption system. I do not have personal experience, but I have heard stories of people making profits off of the “business” of adoption and even people taking healthy newborns from loving families to “sell” to adoption organizations. This is so tragic that I don’t have words and I pray and have no doubt that there are good people on the inside of the system who are fighting hard for reform. It is a messed up world we live in, folks.

However, to tell an adoptive parent that they “deserve” the trials that the special needs of a child brings because they paid various costs in order to bring that child into their family is no more fair than to tell a family who has a biological child with special needs that they “deserve” it. Adoptive parents do not feel “entitled” to a child. Every loving parent desires for their child to grow up healthy, strong, and well adjusted regardless of their bloodline and when that doesn’t happen for one reason or another it is HARD. It is hard to watch your child suffer and to not understand how to communicate in the right way with that child. Reactive Attachment Disorder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Anxiety Disorders, etc. are very real and can wreak havoc on the lives of those who have it and their families. Support is needed.

A Better Thing to Say: “I don’t understand your pain, but I will commit to pray for you and your family.”

I would never presume to know the depths of pain that families who have children with terminal illnesses face. I have never personally experienced that. But I can have compassion and pray for God’s hope and healing, peace and strength. In the same way, if you have never experienced life with a child who has special emotional or psychological needs, you won’t be able to understand all the dynamics. So, hold your judgement and pray. God does know and understand and He can bring hope and healing. 

“Now finally, all of you should be like-minded and sympathetic, should love believers, and be compassionate and humble.” 1 Peter 3.8

What Not to Say: “You shouldn’t point out all the negative things about adoption. There are so many kids out there that need families and you are going to scare people out of adopting!”

That would be like saying, “Don’t tell people that marriage can be challenging! You will scare people out of getting married!” Let’s just shoot straight here. You could talk to a couple that is in love all day long about the difficulties that marriage can bring and they are going to smile and nod right through your conversation and on their way to pick out wedding cakes.

If someone feels called to adopt, they are no less going to allow the knowledge of potential challenges deter them than they are the mountains of paperwork and years of waiting. What actually more likely to happen is that they will be better prepared for the trials that may (or may not!) come there way. I wish someone would have told me!! Granted, I’m glad I didn’t know the DETAILS, but no one knows those but God anyway. It would have just been nice to know that it’s not all unicorns and rainbows like the pictures and stories make you think.

We have books about marriage and conferences about marriage and blogs about marriage because it can be complicated. It shouldn’t be far fetched to have the same type of encouragement and support for struggling adoptive parents.

A Better Thing to Say: “Thanks for balancing out the realities of adoption. It can certainly be overwhelming and challenging. Praise God that He is bigger than all of our trials, though!”

Amen and amen!! He IS so much bigger! That is the hope we have and some days that’s the only thing that keeps us going. It’s good to be reminded of it often.

“Bright eyes cheer the heart; good news strengthens the bones.” Proverbs 15.30

What Not to Say: “You just need to learn what unconditional love is.”

Whew, YES! Don’t we all?? I will be the first to admit that 1 Corinthians 13 is a challenge for me. “Love is patient.” Failed at that one today when my son spilled another glass of water. “Love is kind.” Yep, another mess up when the day was ending and my kids were stretching my last ounce of patience. “Love does not act improperly.” Yikes. We won’t even go there.

Unconditional love is a tough one, y’all. We are human after all. But that is exactly what we are striving for, right? To love the Lord our God with all our hearts and to love our Neighbor (husband, children, friends, family) as ourselves. Love, love, love. It’s all about love!

So simple yet so… hard. We are selfish by nature. But as Christ followers, it is in us to desire to love. And therefore we long to love our special needs adopted children unconditionally. The struggle comes when—surprise!—that love is rejected over and over. But as I walk this journey, I am learning more and more about how truly amazing and miraculous it is that the God of the UNIVERSE would love me—an awful, terrible sinner—so much that He gave His Son to die in my place and that even now—now that I know who He is and His great love—He loves me when I reject Him and ignore Him. WOW! He is THE perfect example of how we are to love the unloveable. So, YES! We do need to learn what unconditional love is. We ALL do!

A Better Thing to Say: “We are all unloveable at times. Keep fighting the good fight and remember God’s unconditional love for us. I pray your child one day sees Christ’s love through you.”

Whew. When I hear those words it is both a great reminder and like a healing balm to my soul! Yes, I am so unloveable, but God loves me! Because of that I can show that same love to my child and trust that God will open her eyes to the beauty that it is. Amazing.

"We love because He first loved us." 1 John 4.19

What Not to Say: “You should have adopted for the right reasons.”

Honestly, I don’t really know what the “wrong” reasons to adopt are, but I’m assuming it would be to impress people? To take cute family photos? To have a little variety in your family’s skin color? I don’t know. If any of those were the reason you adopted then, yes, you definitely should have adopted for the right reasons! But I don’t know a single adoptive family that didn’t adopt out of genuine love for the Lord and for their child. (Not saying they aren’t out there, just that I don’t personally know them.)

To tell this to a parent who is struggling with the reality of their adopted child’s special needs would be like telling a parent struggling with the reality of their biological child’s special needs that they should have gotten pregnant for the right reasons.

What??

I will say again, no parent wants to see their child suffer. No parent wants to struggle every day to connect and watch their child reject love.

We often hear on the one hand that adoptive parents are expected to love their adopted children in the same way they love their biological children (and they should!) but when it comes to admitting to difficulties adopted children sometimes face, it’s taboo, though often not so with biological children. It’s a little unbalanced, I’d say.

A Better Thing to Say: Probably nothing at all.

Instead, maybe research some of the very real emotional and psychological issues that adopted children (and in turn adoptive families) face.

Things like Reactive Attachment Disorder and Post TraumaticStress Disorder which are both very common in adopted children. By doing a little research, you may be able to better understand and gain compassion for these children and families.

“Pure and undefiled religion before our God and Father is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself unstained by the world.” James 1.27

What Not to Say: “You are just self-righteous/entitled/egocentric.”

I have a friend who has a biological child who has classic RAD symptoms. Let’s pretend for a moment that she wrote this same exact blog about her daughter that she carried in her womb for 9 months, gave birth to, and raised from day one yet has shared with me many of the emotional trials this child has brought.

Would you say that she has a feeling of entitlement because she longs to relate to and understand her daughter and love her effectively and grieves that she can’t? Would you say she was self-righteous because she recognizes the internal battle that her daughter faces with building walls to protect herself emotionally, knowing all the while as her mom that she doesn’t need to? Would you consider it egocentric that she wishes differently for her family?

My guess is probably not.  So I offer up the idea that neither is it for an adoptive parent.

A Better Thing to Say: Gonna go with “Nothing at all” on this one, too.

If you genuinely feel that way in your heart, you miiiiiight want to examine and see if perhaps you aren’t the one with a self-righteousness issue. We all have battles. We all have sin that we fight daily.

Don’t judge someone else because their struggle looks different from your own.

“The one without sin among you should be the first to throw a stone at her.” –Jesus

The Bottom Line:

“And the tongue is a fire. The tongue, a world of unrighteousness, is placed among the parts of our bodies; it pollutes the whole body, sets the course of life on fire, and is set on fire by hell…. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men who are made in God’s likeness. Out of the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers, these things should not be this way.” James 3.6, 7b-10

Easy killer. Reel it in. If we truly call ourselves Christ followers, then we are to “carry one another’s burdens” (Galatians 6.2) and to “[speak] to one another in psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, singing and making music to the Lord in your heart”. It’s hard to do those things when we are tearing one another down and lacking compassion.

It’s easy to post an anonymous, hateful post (which all but one of these were anonymous) and then carry on with your day feeling justified in your remarks. But it’s also easy to forget that there are real life people on the other side of the screen. I highly doubt you would speak face to face that way with someone (at least I hope not, wow!)

To everyone who shared your stories and wrote words full of life and encouragement, thank you!! We are in this together and it is so much sweeter when the Body of Christ rallies around to carry the load.

(PS Congratulations if you made it to the end of this very long post! Feel free to comment. If you disagree with any part of what I said, I’d love to hear from you as long as it is written respectfully with the intent to understand one another. All hateful comments will be deleted because, well... ain’t nobody got time for dat.)