The Scars of a Legalistic Christianity

Years ago, in another life, I traveled with a ministry that was revival centered. I thought this was going to be an incredible experience of growing deeply in the Lord and serving in a Children’s Pastor role. We traveled to a new church every two to three weeks and completely took over their services, children, and youth areas. Those three years of living on the road for ten months out of every year ended up being some of the darkest of my life.

 

Those three years almost caused me to walk away from any church association forever. Strangely enough, it was not the people that we ministered to that broke me; it was the leadership that I traveled with, supported, and took counsel from that caused the most harm. Early on I came to understand that leadership was our judge and jury. They were not there to actually invest in you as an individual, they were there to keep you in line and make sure that you did not tarnish the image of the ministry. There were long lists of rules, daily meetings that sent us into introspection for deeply rooted sin, and an overall sense of damnation. Before you assume I am being overly dramatic…one of the nights during the meetings, we actually taught the churches to walk through a list of sins, check each one that they had ever committed, and pray thoroughly for forgiveness. We were encouraged to go through this “sin list” weekly. My walk with the Lord quickly became exhausting, self-deprecating, and all grace had been removed.

 

I quickly became dubbed a “problem child”…was accused of things I had never done and disciplined accordingly. In the three years I served with this ministry I was moved to three different teams and apparently my “reputation” preceded me. I developed anxiety to such a level that I developed an auto-immune disorder which was interpreted as a way to seek attention. I considered suicide, I cried myself to sleep almost nightly, and I prayed for death or a rescue. In the end, I was given an ultimatum and chose to walk away from a ministry that I had felt called to serve in.

 

Not everyone in this ministry had this same experience but there were some that did and it was hard to recover from. In hindsight, I should have never been a part of such a ministry. Previous wounds from past experiences had made me vunerable and ill-prepared to deal with such a legalistic environment. Memories of this time recently came to the surface again through a discussion at church with my tribe and also being in contact with someone that is still a part of this ministry. Before I was prepared for it, emotions of brokenness welled up within me.

 

I don’t share this to bash a ministry that I once was a part but it reminded me as a parent, as a believer, as someone who is part of a body of Christ, do I fall into the trap of legalistic behavior? I struggle with this because I was raised in such an environment. I sometimes project this on my children and others…on of my greatest fears is that I will turn my children’s hearts away from Jesus in the effort of helping them become perfect Christians. I want to shower people with love dripping in grace. Can my children see discipline as an act of love because I am doing it the right way or am I damaging Christ’s reputation with my tongue? We as parents and believers are first called to love and then teach. I want to raise up people who share the love of their Father. I want them to be so intimately aquainted with their Father’s heart that others are drawn to Jesus.

 

 I am a broken individual with incredibly deep scars but my heart yearns to love my family and others. I still run from hurt and stay away from strong individuals that I fear their judgement…BUT God is teaching me still. Even at the age of forty-five God is growing me in my faith and my relationship with Him continues to deepen. I was not broken beyond his healing power…no one is and there is incredible mercy in knowing that.

The Cup Offense....

People are often confused about how kids/adults with autism respond to emotion or don’t appear to respond to emotion. At times it appears that people with autism don’t have emotion but in fact, the opposite is true. They can have powerful emotional reactions but do not know how to respond to those emotions appropriately. It is for this reason that we often spend our days telling Adi when we are excited, happy, sad, proud, etc. We make him look at us so he can start to recognize the physical and vocal cues. We show and tell him how to respond to each of these emotions. If mommy is happy… smile and give a high five! If mommy is sad… give her a hug. If you did something wrong… say I’m sorry and give a hug. Sometimes he is so upset that he messed up that he gets angry with himself and since he does not know how to express that emotion, he attacks. Thus begins the story of a cup…

 

Sunday night we were eating dinner and Adi seemed agitated about something. In the middle of the meal, he gets up from his chair, walks over to Anna Beth and knocks her cup of water over, then returned to his seat. It was in that moment that Brian and I realized Anna Beth had inadvertently used one of his cups. We have those little plastic party cups with different characters on them such as Paw Patrol, Dory, Star Wars, etc. They are the perfect size, Anna Beth has Star Wars ones and the rest of them are Adi’s. He knew immediately that she was using one of his cups and he was offended. We all sat there in stunned silence for a few minutes before jumping into action to clean up the mess. Once the water, ice, table, and floor were dry Anna Beth looked at me and said, “I don’t understand why he is not in time-out!” It was at that point that I realized we had not really addressed the poor choice with Adi in our hurry to clean up the mess and help Anna Beth.

 

I got up from my chair, went over to Adi and asked for his hand. At that point, I lightly tapped the hand that had pushed over the cup and told him that it was not ok to knock over Anna Beth’s water and if he did not like her using his cup, he needed to use his words. I don’t think I even finished my sentence before he lunged at me and started clawing my face. Again, he was angry about the cup, he was upset that he disappointed momma and that was a lot of emotion to process so he lashed out. Brian had to head around the table and peel him off of me at that point and it took a full hour for him to calm down. He could not even stand to be within view of the two of us for an hour. After a time-out with daddy, some deep compression hugs and reassurances from momma that I loved him no matter what, he walked into the living room, kissed Anna Beth and I, and apologized to both of us without any prompting.

 

You would think this was the end of it but you would be wrong. He has been angry for 3 days people. He cannot tell you why, he cannot process the emotions he is feeling, and he expels crocodile tears every time he lashes out because he does not want to hurt us. Last night found me in Walmart with an angry Adi that kept clawing my face and chest every time I got within arm’s length. At one point I was calmly talking to a Sales Associate while holding Adi’s arms as he was trying to lunge and attack me. To the Sales Associate’s credit, he did not respond to Adi’s antics at all and continued taking care of my needs as though he completely understood the situation.  

 

These situations are rare but that does not make them any less hard. Before you think Adi has completely recovered from the trauma of adoption, you are reminded of the lack of trust and deep hurt that comes out in situations like these. The response ALWAYS has to be a calm spirit, lots of grace, and reassurance of unconditional love while at the same time teaching a better response. The goal is to remain gentle and calm so he responds in kind. It hurts the heart and yes, after it is over I break down but God is there to lean into and gives comfort. The Lord prepared us for this, He poured out all kinds of grace so we can be gentle in the face of hard. While I expect Brian and I to be able to have the strength and knowledge to do this I am always in awe of how much God prepared Anna Beth as well. Adi can be lunging at her and instead of anger… she holds his hands and reminds him that he is safe, that Jesus loves him, and that she does too.

 

When you see that parent in the store dealing with a hard situation such as this….please don’t judge but pray over them. Shoot them a gentle smile or offer to help. These parents need community support and these kids need your understanding. The world is filtered through a different lens for them but it is not any less beautiful or precious.

Thirteen...

 My sweet girl…today you turn thirteen and I am still as in awe of you as I was the day I found out you were coming. You were a miracle to me, one that I never thought I would be a part of and I am so grateful God knit you together, making me your momma.

 

You have faced hard things this year and in years past. You have walked a path at times that others your age have not. But it has also given you an incredible perspective and empathy for others that are walking through hard things. I have seen/heard you ask hard questions so you can define your faith and position. I have watched you be unwilling to change or bend to become “typical.” I have seen you fight the battle of conforming to a group of followers and instead blaze new paths. You are a leader which is often misunderstood for controlling. You are learning to identify your weaknesses and work to strengthen them. This year I have watched you become discouraged but you are working hard to keep fighting the hard thing. I have watched you work at learning how to balance respect while standing for what is right.

 

I admire your ability to talk to strangers and befriend them. While your cats drive me crazy, I love the way you adore them. I find your obsession with Star Wars, Lilo and Stitch, rocks, and even Build A Bear endearing. I find the way you see deep meaning in simple things stunning. I am grateful that you seek mine and your daddy’s counsel rather than running to unsafe places, even when it can be embarrassing or hard. While your level of energy often exhausts me, I smile and cannot imagine you being different. Thank you for loving your brother with such fierceness. Thank you for praying for God to bring him into our family and then celebrating the change rather than mourning your loss of being an only child.

 

You make me shake my head each time you incur a new injury and yet you also amaze me at your genuine toughness. From walking on a fractured knee for two weeks to falling from the top of a jungle gym and never shedding a tear. You have more resolve to fight through pain than many men I know. On the flip side I have seen you weep over a hamster that was suffering. While I may at times grow weary of the amazing volume of words you can say in under five minutes, I love that you want to share all those thoughts with me.

 

I want you to know that I am always praying over you. That I am committed to being a prayer warrior for you. I pray each day that you are aware of Jesus’s presence and that you live out that life of integrity. I pray that you are kind and others see Jesus in your countenance. My hope is that my walk with Jesus is evident to you and that you are also learning to walk in constant communication with Him. I pray you can learn to identify our Father’s work in your life each day, not just in the big hard things but in the small ones as well. May you find contentment and joy in simply being in communion with your heavenly Father. Don’t forget to lean into Him when you are tempted to fix things on your own. Remember that failing well and accepting grace is just as important as being right. Don’t ever be so content in your relationships that you stop working on them. Everything with value takes nurturing.

 

I am proud of you. For who you are now, not who you will be but in this moment… I am proud of you. I will always love you and will be a safe place for you. I love being your momma, even the hard work of that thing I call being a parent. You were created for the specific purpose of glorifying Jesus so keep your eyes set on that goal. I will be right there with you…also failing, also receiving grace, and encouraging you forward.  Happy Birthday my sweet girl! You are celebrated, cherished, and loved beyond your imagination!

Dear Momma of Littles-

I see you and I remember those hard days that never seem to end. Those days of teaching discipline and walking through what feels like the same day over and over. There is truth to the saying, “The days are long but the years are short.” There is nothing that I can say that will make you feel better about the hard of those days. The decisions of natural, organic, homeschooling…they all seem huge. I am an older parent caught between two worlds and I often feel painfully inadequate. God often reminds me that I do not have to be the perfect parent but I am the parent my children need. One is still little and the other has reached teen status. There are hard things about both those worlds but I want to remind you that you are working to raise adults. You are not exhausting yourself and giving your all each day to raise functional children…your end goal is functional adults. And to raise that bar, if you are a believer, your fight is so much more than that. You are in a battle, so make sure you are armed. Make sure that you have done the hard work of caring for you, your marriage, and your relationship with your heavenly Father.

My greatest fear for my oldest was not her learning to potty train, or holding my hand as we crossed the street. It was her being able to distinguish the truth of her faith from the false teaching. Being grounded in who she was as she walked into a large middle school where kids were trying to identify the difference between transgender, they/them vs. he and she, bisexual, transsexual, etc.. Supporting her as she found her place in middle school society and accepted that it is was ok not to be one of the cool kids. That she was unique and perfect just the way God created her and did not need to conform to be accepted. I prayed that she would reach out to me with her pain, her questions, her curiosity and that I would be ready with honest answers. It has been hard coaching her on working through conflict with teachers and peers. To know when it was time to step in as a parent and when it is wise to let her learn from her choices. As parents, we made the deliberate decision many years ago to let our kids fail…we wanted them to fail when we were still there to guide them through that challenge. We want them to leave us knowing how to fail, face it, and make wise choices going forward. We want to teach them to be prepared and have a plan of action for everything.

My girl and I recently had an incredibly difficult conversation. She texted us in the middle of the day sharing about a 17 year old that she knew was pregnant. She was judgmental, harsh, and lacked empathy. My immediate reaction was to be careful in response because I knew she would remember my reaction if she ever found herself in the same situation. I also wanted her to learn from this…that unless you have a plan and boundaries in place before you ever go on a date, you will fail morally EVERY.SINGLE.TIME.   We had deep heart talks about being compassionate, about knowing your plan for dating, about responding in love. It was beautifully hard. Each day I find deep meaning in my relationship with my middle schooler. She listens to everything I say, she stores it in her memory banks, she watches my reactions to her, she listens to the tone of my voice. EVERY single thing I say to her has significance. Every single thing she observes has significance. From mine and my husband’s relationship to our personal relationships with Jesus, has influence on her.  It either points her to Jesus or drives her to seek answers in this world that needs Jesus. The world wants her…they are trying desperately to reach her…we as parents have to be ready to teach truth. To not run from the hard conversations but lean into them.

Parenting does not get easier as they get older, it gets more complicated. It requires more thought, planning, and living out your faith in front of them. My dear friends that are parents of littles, you are just in training to be the parent your child needs as they age. As my children age, I see so much that I lack and it makes me run to the cross. Intentional parenting is so hard. It requires so much work but our goal is to raise Jesus lovers. We care not if they have successful careers, marry well, give us lots of grandchildren. If they are Jesus lovers, they will attract the right mate, they will be successful in the job God has for them, and they will be wonderful, intentional parents someday.

Parents of Littles…I am praying for you. I see your tired faces in the halls of church, the aisles of the stores, and at the endless activities. Don’t lose your focus in the daily grind that never seems to end. Before you know it, you will be facing a middle schooler, a high schooler, and a college student that needs your wisdom. Walk away from those dishes and invest in the relationship with your child when they are little. Become their closest relationship so that you can speak truth when they need it most. Find your tribe but chose carefully… pray for one another, allow the tribe to build relationships with your children so they can be a positive influence. The battle lines are hard to see sometimes but they are real and you are fighting for so much more than the daily grind of dishes, laundry, homework, etc. Don’t be judgmental of that other parent; just be the encouragement they need because someday you will need it to. 

Reflections...2017

It has been a while…this time of year brings out the emotion in me and anyone that knows me, knows I do so through documenting. This time last year we were still in the throws of adoption after-shock. We had circled the wagons and home life was tumultuous. Christmas Eve last year might go down as the hardest we have ever experienced. I remember lying on the floor of Adi’s bedroom sobbing with scratches all over my face and back. I longed to reach his heart and his pain was a heavy burden to carry.

 

We recently passed Adi’s adoption day. Most people would expect this to be a day of celebration and joy… In our house it induced tears. He remembers…he knows we were not his first parents, he can clearly understand what happened to him, and he has the added burden of not being able to express it fully as a typical child would. We looked at a picture of him and his birth parents, we talked about the way they loved him and the choice they made. We wiped away the tears and held him tight. The difference…last year he had anger…this year he had tears. Adi has learned to accept this trauma inducing change in his life but that does not remove the hurt. He is learning to forgive but that does not remove the 4 ½ years of memories he had with them. We hope that one day, he will be ready to open his heart to them again. This time of year we are watchful for signs of grief, for his need for reassurance. We lower our expectations for celebrations and allow him to lead the way in his response to them.  Adi has a firm grasp that Jesus loves him, is always taking care of him, and never leaves him. We have moved on to teaching him that God is good and wants us to make good choices. Choices is an important thing to my boy.

 

On the opposite end of the spectrum is our girl…she is every bit of twelve, almost thirteen. She is amazing, exhausting, full of life, with a heart so sensitive we fear we might break it. Finding the balance of honesty with encouragement is tricky. Daddy tends to get whiplash with the mood swings but my heart laughs a bit because I remember being the same exact way. On one hand she seems older and wiser than her typical peers and the next moment she is just the teen we expect her to be. God has gifted her with the ability to separate Adi’s responses when he is overwhelmed from Adi’s genuine love for her. She runs through the house playing hide-n-seek with him and ten minutes later recognizes he needs space. Anna Beth has spent large amounts of time studying her brother and learning him so she can love him fully. On the other hand, it is a miracle I have not broken a bone while attempting to climb over the stuff on her floor to get to her bed to kiss her good-night. We watch her caught between little girl and grown woman. She has not settled on her place in her world yet but seems confident in who she is while walking through her days. I’ve told Brian that I believe we will see her flourish once she reaches high school or college. Right now she still has that leadership personality in a middle school world that demands uniformity in order to achieve acceptance. We are proud of her as she has not fallen prey to that mind-set but continues to forge ahead, unwilling to bend to society rules. She is learning to let go of her demands for perfection out of herself but her work ethic is strong. Her friends tend to be those on the outskirts that are often overlooked. She has confidently joined another youth group on Wednesday nights that better speaks to her heart while holding onto her ties to the youth group at our church. My girl brings tears to my eyes with her genuine love of people. She is a world changer that continues to grow in her relationship with the Lord and it tends to pour out in the way she loves those around her.

 

My Love and I will be celebrating 14 years of marriage next month. This man I married is as solid as they come but gentle with our hearts. He has worked ridiculous hours and yet his moments of peace he spent investing in his family. I could not be prouder of his leadership at work and the way he daily walks with integrity. He is a lover of Jesus and is sensitive to leading his family well. Marriage with this man has not been hard….life has been hard. God continues to give us what we need and new mercies each day to face the daily onslaught of this world. I love walking through life beside this man. Choosing each other daily is both deliberate and rewarding. The best part of each day is when he walks through our front door. Our prayer is that our marriage and family is a direct reflection of God’s redemption power. We have never aspired to change the world but just to be intentional in our relationships God called us to. I recently shared with a friend that we can never model perfection because we are imperfect. God has not called us to live a life of perfection before others. Instead, he gives us the power to make the right choices and grace when we fail. I want to fail well…I want others to see Jesus’s forgiveness when I fall flat on my face. I want them to see humility in my response and I want to see that I continue to choose hard things so my Father can be glorified.

 

This year has changed me, it has grown me, it has exhausted me, it has encouraged me and as we wind down to the end, I can honestly say, “This was a good year.” It was hard but oh friends, God was with us. He never ceased to be good. As I tell Adi every day, God is good and wants goodness for us. It is our responsibility to see the goodness amongst the hard. If my relationships with my heavenly Father, my sweet family, and my friends has grown deeper, then it has been good.

 

Isaiah 40:31 “…but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” 

Loss...

Adi has had a rough week. We are working through our second week of fall break and each day he whines, tries to control, and demands. In most children, parents would chalk this up to just a kid being off their schedule. Our boy is more complicated than that. We have watched him each day, lash out at his sister. Tell her things like, “Anna Bet can’t ride in the car. Go away Anna Bet. I don’t want you.” He has physically attacked her. He has thrown things. I have had to sit at the table and spoon feed him as he cried his way through dinner. We have had to do extra snuggles in the bed, extra patience and lots of grace.

 

You see, this week Adi had someone else leave him. They had no idea this would affect him this way and they could not even allow this to affect their decision. The Director of his afterschool program took another position. Adi loved her…and she left him. By the age of 6, most kids are used to changing teachers in preschools, having people rotate in and out of their lives but for Adi, this is personal. He had the most central figures in his life leave him. They made a hard decision because they believed it was best for Adi but it does not change the brokenness left behind.

 

While it may seem that our son has adjusted and moved on with his life, he has not forgotten the pain. He still wears it as he walks through his day. He does not trust people in his life. He asks the same questions over and over to make sure you have not forgotten. Every time we make a promise to him and follow through, he allows a little more of his heart to be exposed. Every time one of us fails to follow through…damage is done that will have to be mended.

 

Last night was rough…Adi broke Anna Beth’s heart more than once but her response was one of grace. Brian and I were talking about why this week has been so hard on Adi and we listened as Anna Beth moved from being hurt to once again putting herself in the line of fire. She had listened to us talk…she understood that this was not about her but about his pain. She walked back into the fire, ready and willing to be hurt again because she loved her brother more than herself. I sat on the couch listening and crying. My girl sought her brother out and  demonstrated the redeeming love of Jesus to him. She portrayed forgiveness, unlimited grace, and unconditional love.

 

This road of brokenness through adoption is never ending. It is daily being aware of what is at stake. It takes all three of us loving without limits. This is not just about making Adi feel safe….this is about Adi finding Jesus. His very life is on the line and when it gets hard, and we are weary, we stop and remember the consequences. I cannot help but think of my Savior during these times. He was God in human form. He was prone to exhaustion, humanness, and temptation but each day he loved with abandon. He kept walking into the fire out of deep love for us. He worked so hard developing relationships of trust so that his followers would be free. We, as humans can never love that deeply because we are flawed but how much would our responses change when we see it in light of salvation. Would we be careful with our promises? Would we walk each day in integrity as though someone’s very eternal life depends on our witness? Would we start investing time and effort into those hard work relationships? Would we sacrifice more because our eyes were open to the hearts at stake?

 

The brokenness of adoption, the loss I hear in my son’s voice, the loss I see in the texts from birth parents…it has driven me deeper. It has changed the way I view the people around me. I fail daily. I give into my selfish frustrations but I am also seeing people more. I am taking more chances. I am showing more grace. I am slowly moving out of my comfort zone of hiding behind my introvert label. I talk to the parent on the playground and share our story when they are curious. I don’t hold back from saying the name Jesus because I have nothing to lose and that person has everything to gain. I have seen our broken, messy life as a platform to talk about the one that has changed me, my family, and others.

 

Loss is painful but it is a door to beautiful. Without loss, there is no NEED.

Guarding Hearts In Adoption

Most of you know that we have an unusually open adoption. We mutually agreed to be open and transparent between the two couples. It was a great idea in theory but as reality unfolded, I realized the layers of emotions involved. I have discovered that the relationship between birth parents and adopted parents changes and evolves over time. There is no cookies cutter formula to this relationship.

 

Our relationship started in October 2015. We were all guarded and on edge. Expectations were not spoken outwardly but they were high on both sides. We were fearful of rejection and they were fearful of making a wrong decision. After placement in May 2016 there was anger, confusion and grief on their parts. They had expectations that we would parent the same as they had even though they knew in their hearts that it was not the right choice for our family. We found ourselves circling the wagons to protect Adi but also I found myself carrying the weight of their grief. I shed many tears over their broken hearts. I found myself protecting them from knowing the truth of Adi’s anger and grief. About how it affected his interactions and development. I had to hide truth from them to protect them from carrying an even heavier burden of guilt. Most of their interaction was between birth mom and myself. It was many times harsh, accusatory, and insulting. God walked me through some very long , dark days of grief.

 

Depression and guilt walked with me daily for months. I watched for weeks on end  as Adi rejected me. He punished me for taking “her” place. I listened as birth mom laid her grief at my door. I refused to tell her how hard this was for our son. Her heart could not handle it and I believed God would/was enabling me to carry it for both of them. The amazing thing about leaning into Jesus…He carries the heavy stuff. He puts people in your path to encourage you. He is HOPE. At this time, our birth parents don’t have that HOPE although we pray they will one day see the gift that could so easily be theirs.

 

God has used time to soften hearts and heal wounds. We recently had an almost 2 hour facetime session with our birth parents. It had been right around a year since we had seen their faces. Since we looked into each other’s eyes and spoke truth. We all text on a fairly consistent basis but even those conversations have changed. Birth mom and I had even had phone calls occasionally and we email updates monthly…but this was different. There was nowhere to hide from the emotion when you are staring each other down. It was beautifully hard and all of us walked away from that call exhausted but rejoicing.

 

Birth mom had requested a phone call with me around Adi’s birthday. She needed time to catch up, ask questions on his development and hear my momma’s heart. Instead I suggested we facetime and get the dad’s involved. Their hearts needed the exchange as much as ours. The night of the call we planned for Adi to hang with his sister downstairs. He fought me on it till I told him who we were going to be talking to and he headed right down. He is no longer angry but neither is he ready to see them, interact with them, and give them what they long for. I pray often that he will one day be ready to extend grace and forgiveness. He must first understand that God has done that for him.

 

That conversation between the four of us was healing. We finally could share Adi’s grief with them and they could face the truth. They could own and acknowledge the brokenness in all of this. They could also see how God is making things new. They recognized and acknowledged that Adi is changing, growing, and advancing beyond where they thought he would be now. They could see and commented on how happy he is which they had not really seen in him before. There was a moment in that conversation when I realized that we now know their son more intimately than they do. That for them, Adi is stuck in time. He still feels like that little 4 ½ year old that they left in our care over a year ago.

 

As we wound down our call, we had a tour of their new home. A home in which they will continue to move forward and heal. We rejoiced with them and celebrated the good they are embracing. As Brian and I hung up, we both talked about how much we craved for the time when we can unite them all again. When Adi will be ready to see them and it will not harm or disrupt his development. We hope for the day that they can see Adi as God’s perfect design. Our relationship has moved from being hard and painful to sharing recipes, gardening tips, and laughing over Adi’s antics. Only God can do that. Only God can heal broken and breathe new life into it. Not only that but He delights in the laughter in our home. He celebrates with us as we see another goal accomplished. Something as small as being able to completely dress himself to watching our children giggle and play, HE delights in. Sometimes I imagine my heavenly Father sitting on his throne, belly laughing with joy at the happiness in our home.  It is not perfect. Our home is and life is often messy and full of mistakes but it is God’s.

 

The further we are from that painful day, (the day after mother’s day), when we signed some papers, I see more goodness than hard. I recently ran across something that reminded me of our adoption. The Japanese used to repair their broken art with gold. They viewed it as having even more beauty once broken and repaired than when it was in its original state. Oh how our Father must view us the same! The more broken we are, the more beauty he sees! We run from pain but God just wants us to lean into it and see the beauty it creates.

Adi Is Not Autism

I know that many of our friends are afraid to ask questions but are curious about Adi and how autism affects his daily life. I would like to share with you something that happened last Saturday as a way for you to better understand him and others with the same diagnosis.

 

After Adi’s baseball game last Saturday, our family and grandparents headed to Chick Fil A for lunch. Adi loves it there. Near the end of lunch, Adi’s drink was accidentally knocked out of his hand. Now if you know Adi, that boy LOVES his soda. We have an argument with him over it just about every day so on special occasions; he gets his coveted Sprite or Root Beer. He was heart-broken and too upset to listen that the sweet employee was going to replace it for him. Adi turned around during his tears and realized that the older couple sitting next to us was staring at him because of his tears. He then looked over at another table and noticed that another couple was doing the same. Adi turned his back on them and went into full melt-down. You see, Adi realized that they were judging him. He understood that they did not approve of his response but what they did not get was that he literally could not help it. What they saw was a spoiled brat getting upset over a drink. The reality…was a high functioning autistic boy that is super sensitive to others emotions and does not know how to deal with it was absolutely embarrassed and just wanted to be alone. Brian and I moved him outside as quickly as we could but Adi was deeply hurt.

 

I do not blame anyone for their stares…if you are not aware of what special needs looks like, then you tend to jump to conclusions. Adi does not “look” like he has challenges. On a playground, you would be hard pressed to even realize he is constantly fighting to be what we would characterize as typical. Autism is hard to understand. It does not present itself in a wheelchair, with special adaptive equipment, unusual facial features. It appears completely typical until all of the sudden it is not… My boy wants friends but the art of conversation is something that is elusive to him. You may ask him a question and he will stare right past you but he is thrilled that you noticed him. Adi may repeat the words of a song to you that don’t make sense but he can read on a 3^rd grade level at the age of 5. Adi may sound like he is speaking gibberish but in reality his mind is moving so fast that he cannot get the words out so he is giving you about every 3^rd word going through his head. He may be giggling at a door but in reality he is trying to decode the mechanism of the door. When you see tears in Adi’s eyes and he is repeating his schedule to you over and over….in reality he is just trying to bring order back to his world because we have asked him to do something he was not prepped for. Adi may not appear as though he is listening in choir but when he gets home he can sing every word back to us and in perfect pitch. Adi cannot follow 3 step directions and gets lost during the process but he can add and subtract. Adi may appear to be completely oblivious to your conversations but he is aware of every word.

 

My challenge to you…don’t stop leaning down and saying hi to him. One day he will surprise you and respond back because he has learned to trust that you really want to know him. Don’t be afraid of his little quirks. One day he will learn to better control/hide them and you will forget he has a unique perception of the world. Don’t just stare at him but engage him, even if it is a one-sided conversation for a while. One day he will open up to you and you will understand just how much your acceptance of him impacted him. Please don’t talk about him in his presence as though he is not capable of understanding because he will never trust you and you will miss out on getting to know a very special person. Most of all, if you are a believer, please be careful with my son’s heart. He is learning about Jesus by observing you and witnessing the way you accept and love him. Adi has a hard time understanding things he cannot see so the concept of God is hard for him to understand. If you do not represent Jesus well, you may very well be teaching him that Jesus loves with limits. We love sharing our boy with you and want you to see how precious and unique God made him. God did not make a mistake…he created Adi for a very special purpose and his autism will help him one day to have an impact in a way a typical person never could. Please don’t look at Adi as someone with limits…view him as someone that can witness things that are completely blind to others. He actually takes delight in tiny things that we often overlook. Recently we were in the car and out of the blue Adi stated, “God is with me…God is everywhere.” My boy understands this simple concept now and a year ago he had never heard the name Jesus. We want you to be Adi’s village and pour truth into his life.

#Woodfam4...A Year Later

Msy 9th, 2016

Today marks one year since the day we were finally able to share with you a picture of our little boy. I think if you were to talk to each of us, you would hear that it has been the hardest year in the life of our little Wood family. Each of us has experienced this adoption through a different lens. Each of us in this puzzle… no less important to the final outcome but each fitting into our roles differently.  Last night I spent almost 2 hours on the phone with birth momma. We laughed together, we cried together, and we had some very raw conversation about the reality of this last year.

I remember sitting in that family room in our agency in New Jersey. The case worker sitting down, looking us in the eye, and saying, “They finished their paperwork.” Just like that and it was done…after months of conversations, debates, and acceptance, birth parents had signed their rights away to Adi. I looked over at Brian and a sense of complete brokenness overwhelmed me. Conflicted is the only word I can think to describe my emotions that day. I struggled to find happiness in those moments. What I was taking part in, was the destruction of one family unit and the building of another.  It was not my choice to dismantle a family but I felt the weight of it. I felt the responsibility of it. I felt the burden of those choices. We both knew, that no matter how much we thought we were prepared for this moment…it would not be enough…we were not enough…but we had JESUS to fill the gaps.

The first 6 months…you guys, I don’t even know how to explain the pain of it..the joy if it…the exhaustion of it. To this day, I cannot tell you how we walked through it. I carried the grief of birth momma on my shoulders. I heard it in phone calls, texts, and emails. I carried the grief of Adi as he isolated himself, became consumed with the rage of grief, he wept in my arms and then drew my blood with his fingers. There was no manual for this. This adoption is everything we never wanted but it is exactly what God called us to do. There were no pretty pictures of a happy baby and birth parent visits. This adoption was raw and my heart has been ravaged because of it. My sweet girl was not left untouched. She longed for this dear boy…she had prayed for exactly this and yet she wept over the loss of our unit of three. She grieved the brother she had expected and was faced daily with a brother that was enraged when he laid eyes on her. Brian was the only one that Adi felt completely safe with and he carried the weight of caring for him, protecting us from Adi’s anger, and loving that little traumatized heart with the intensity of a warrior. If you could have spent one week in those first 6 months with us, you would be stunned realizing where we are today.  Those first 6 months carried more tears than smiles. We celebrated Adi’s choice to not strike in anger more than we celebrated laughter. We walked the balancing act of protecting birth parents from the truth of Adi’s grief and their anger at us for not complying with their expectations. The only choice we had was to love with abandon and persistently chase Adi’s little heart.

A year later I still weep when I think of those daily moments of holding my new son, while he raged, and softly whispering to him…”You are safe, I will not leave you, you are home.” The pain of that time is still fresh and yet the intensity of love for him cannot be explained. He is so incredibly tough and yet deeply sensitive. He loves to pull pranks and gets hurt when he hears people talking about him or feels as though he is being laughed at.  I cannot share our story without tears appearing. It is not because of how hard it was…it is because those moments God has redeemed. My little boy squeals with delight when I pick him up from school. He will climb in my arms and wrap his arms around me, saying, “I love you mommy.” He will run through the house to look for his sister because he missed her. Brian and I are finding time for us again…for months we would nod our heads at each other from across the room, in solidarity. As if to say, “I see you…I love you…I am praying for you and when the time comes, I will be here.” That fog of grief is lifting. Birth parents are moving forward slowly and celebrating the victories we share with them. We are able to find peaceful ground and share little bits of Jesus with them.

My family is solidifying as a unit and becoming established in our new roles/titles. There are more peaceful days than unrest. I can see my children physically relaxing and feeling safe. I see us smiling, laughing and delighting in each other. I cannot tell you how many times my heart was shattered and my Savior restored me. Those burdens are starting to fall off my shoulders and I am learning how to not live in survival mode anymore.

Our family is goal oriented people. I jokingly said recently to friends that a trip to Walmart requires a white board to write out lists and a plan of action. All four of us live our life by lists so that we can keep order and feel safe. We often measure our accomplishments by these lists. When I stand before God someday, I kind of expect my legacy to be in a list format but in reality this is not what I want. I want my legacy to be that I chose faith…trust…redemption…forgiveness…and that I lived out love and grace. I don’t want anyone to look at me and say, she survived cancer well…she worked hard…she adopted. I want them to say, she loved well…she extended grace…she showed mercy…she intimately knew Jesus. I don’t want to walk away from this past year with my family feeling like they survived a hard transition. I want them to walk away knowing that God was present, He carried us, we trusted Him, He redeemed us, we were witness to His power.

I stand in amazement as I spent a year of witnessing God’s restoring power. He generously bestowed His covering over us as we went into battle over hearts. We are weary and still recovering BUT I would choose this again. Knowing what I know now…I would still choose it. I cannot imagine our family without having walked this adoption story. We will have years ahead to continue the healing process. We will face questions of rejection, grief of brokenness, and at some point…it is our hope that some restoration of a relationship with Adi and his birth parents will happen. We are praying that God will reveal himself as very real and true to our little boy someday. We have hope that he will be able to one day see his birth parents again and understand their choices. That he will be able to extend grace when they need it. That God will one day capture their hearts as well. This began with a stirring in our hearts almost 5 years ago and today we celebrate that with a quiet joy while also acknowledging the brokenness that brought us together. . #Woodfam4

Thirteen Years of Choosing Each Other...

Thirteen years we have lived life together. Those years were not full of butterflies and roses but they were full of truth. The truth that no matter how much we disappoint one another, disagree, and face hard things, we fight together for us. We have more wrinkles, gray hair, more belly but we also have more memories, more trust, more love, more faith.

This past year has probably been the hardest out of all of them. There has been a lot less time for us. We have worked hard to remind each other that “we” are important even when we could not stop for dates and flowery expressions of love. Daily emails to pour our hearts out to each other, connect, and pray over the hurts/challenges. It was a year full of anticipation, joy, grief, and exhaustion. Sometimes our emotions were raw as we raced about the busyness of the day but each day there was a conscious choice to choose each other...to remain steadfast to the covenant promise of our marriage.

I was reminded today, that there is no one else on earth that knows the details, the decisions, the hold your breath moments of our family story but you and I. You are the only other person that is witness to all the God moments, the exhaustion, the tears, the pushing through the day and barely making it moments. I am grateful it was you. I am thankful that we had so much history with each other that we could look across the room and check each other’s hearts without words being spoken. That the burden of this year did not break us because we trusted God to strengthen us. I am grateful that when my tongue was sharp and your patience was ending, we could extend grace.

For thirteen years you have chased me, protected me, served me, and loved me beyond what the world expects. Marriage to you has never been incredibly hard. Life has been hard. Instead of letting life consume us, you have gently reminded me that God put us together so we did not have to do it alone. Together we carry our family forward while holding the memories of yesterday in our hearts.

I want you to know that I am proud to be yours and will do my very best to always honor you. That I remain resolute to lift you up in prayer and support you. You are my dearest friend and I do not take lightly the trust you have in me. Daily we will continue to fight against the things of this world that try to destroy “US” and we will sharpen one another as iron sharpens iron. You will make me laugh at myself when I grow too serious and I will remind you that I do in fact, “love you more!” We will discuss large and small decisions over baskets of laundry. We will laugh at the inside jokes, we will flirt while cleaning the house, we will roll our eyes at each other over homework tears. We will do this thing called life together because thirteen years ago we made a covenant. Thank you for remaining true, honest, and upright. You are the man my heart desires and I celebrate that today.

Christmas Expectations...

I am not sure what I had expected for Christmas this year. I had done research, read articles on the best ways to keep Christmas relaxed and not overwhelming for an ASD kid. I had prepared myself for Adi not appearing interested or being indifferent but I was not prepared for the look of betrayal on his face. The confusion and hurt that I saw in his eyes and the anger that emerged. It broke my heart.

Christmas Eve we headed to the Vandy Children’s Hospital to help serve at their Christmas Eve service. Something about being there and coming home to open their Christmas Eve Jammies triggered something painful in my boy. He came after me with a vengeance and clawed, pinched and hit me in the face till Brian could get him pulled off. I had dealt with this before…but this time his face broke my heart. I was the woman that tried to step into the role of mom to him and he was angry, hurt, sad and LOST. Brian pulled him into our room to calm while I lay on the floor of Adi’s room sobbing and asking God how to fix this. As a mom, I just want to be able to fix the pain and make it easier but I cannot save my boy from this grief. He must walk through it and slowly come to terms with the changes in his world. At the same time, we were receiving emails from birth parents, sharing their pictures and memories from this time last year. They were hurting too and I was struggling to comfort everyone that was feeling so raw and exposed.

Christmas morning was just about as hard. The same anger still resided in my little boy and I was stressed because his only source of comfort had to go to church. Daddy was leaving us for a while to go play for the Christmas service. Adi retreated to his room. Laying in his bed and withdrawing into a world of electronics. Anna Beth and I followed his lead and allowed him the space. After an hour, I went to his door and requested to come in and hug him. He agreed but offered little in the way of communication. I left his room with a small amount of hope as he had no anger left in him. A few minutes later Adi emerged from his room and climbed right on top of me, ready to quietly re-enter the family. By the time daddy arrived back home, we were on better footing and ready to face the rest of our day.

This first year will be the hardest. Each event or milestone is a step farther from the past and with that brings greater trust but also grief. We are never sure what the triggers are or what will trigger memories but they cause raw and painful emotions to surface. How do you comfort a 5 year old that has all the feels but no way to process them? How do you explain the logic of what happened to him when he does not process thoughts in a logical way? The answer…you don’t. You pray hard, you comfort when you can, you allow for a safe space to express those emotions and you wait for the day when you can share with him his story. How do you comfort birth parents that made a hard /brave choice but are now grieving a loss you can only attempt to imagine? The answer…you don’t. You offer hope, you open your heart to listen to their grief, you share what you can, and you pray God continues to open the door to share salvation with them.

There are days that I wonder how far God can stretch me before I break. But isn’t that what God wants? He wants to break me so more of HIM can be revealed. He wants our story to reflect HIS redemptive power. This Christmas there was joy too. It was that little flicker of hope for what God was doing. Each moment of raging allows for a deeper trust. It provides opportunities for us to pray over Adi out loud so he can be witness to the realness and comfort of this Jesus we always talk about. It gives us opportunities to pour out grace on people that were once strangers to us but are now forever a part of our hearts. The orchestration of our family could have only happened by the hand of God and there is hope in that. I am not sure what 2017 will hold and the “TYPE A” in me would love to plan it out but 2016 has proven that to go deeper with my Jesus, I must surrender my plans. I must place my trust in God and allow Him to continue to push me farther from my comfort zones. My expectations destroy opportunities for God to work in my heart. I’m setting goals that allow flexibility for God’s plans to take precedence. As hard as this story has been, I would choose it over and over again.

Wrapping Up 2016!

How do you wrap up a year like this in just a few sentences? How do you express a year of faith and emotion in one blog? Brian and I sat and talked for about 2 hours last night. Each of us mentally walking through the changes we have experienced and been witness to this year. Both of us quietly in awe of our God stories. There is nothing else that can explain the orchestration of this past year.

We started January 2016 discouraged. In fact Christmas 2015 felt uncertain and disheartening. We had already been in conversations with Adi’s birth parents for 2 months at that point and we felt discouraged by their responses. We had a very small circle of people that we could be completely honest and open with about the conversations taking place behind the scenes. We went to work, church and events with heavy hearts but could not share why. It was not till the end of February that we had an answer. Unless something drastic happened, Adi would soon be coming home to Tennessee. I will never forget the moment we told AB it was happening. She had hoped, dreamed and prayed just like we had. She was just as emotionally invested in this process as we were. I have said it before and I will say it again, that kid is tough as nails. She guards her heart closely and the day she realized she could swing it open, we saw her exhale as though she had been holding her breath for years. Many times we have wondered why God asked us to wait so very long and we may never really know the answer to that question. We both know that God used those years to change our expectations and desires for our adoption. Four years ago we would have not been open to such a unique adoption and all the messy that came with it.

March 19th we made the fastest and hardest trip to meet our son for the very first time. We spent 15 hours in a car, with three, fifteen minute stops so we could arrive in time to meet a family that would forever be intertwined with ours. He had no idea he would be ours. Our time there was emotionally taxing as we were attempting to enter Adi’s world, balance the emotions of our birth parents with our excitement. As a mom, you always imagine holding your child for the first time. As an adoptive mom, you can’t wrap your head around meeting your child when he is 4 ½…I know you don’t know me but I love you, want you, prayed for you and will push you to be your very best. That older girl, sitting on the floor next to you, reading you a book….she prayed for a brother like you for a very long time and she wants you to know that she will protect you. That man, sliding to the floor beside you…he has the biggest heart you will ever know and he will tuck you in every night with prayers and kisses. He will stand over you after you are asleep and stare in wonder that God gave you to us. That first meeting…it shattered my heart. I sat in the floor with birth momma, hugging, and shed tears…we knew this was best but we also knew the grief would be heavy, the quiet she would soon experience would be deafening.

We rushed home and begin finalizing paperwork, painting and decorating his room. Calling the school and setting up meetings, picking a pediatrician, getting medical records and reports sent to the correct offices and sharing our story with a wider group of people. Nothing was set in stone until they signed those papers so we worked in faith. Finally the date was set, bags were packed and we made our way back to New York on May 8th, 2016. I was terrified! If everything went as planned, Brian would leave me behind, in this huge city, with 2 kids, one of which I barely knew. I could be here 2 weeks and possibly have to put my oldest on a plane by herself. But God knows what we need and when we need it. He knows when to rescue us and when to ask more of us. The morning of May 9th changed our family forever. We arrived at the adoption agency just a little while after the birth parents had left. We sat in the same room where they had forever signed away the rights to Adi. Trusting us with his care and believing we were the best choice for their son. I had papers put in my hands…told to sign and initial on several lines and then I looked up into the kind eyes of the case worker. I saw grief and happiness reflected there and I broke. Tears rushed out of my eyes as I realized he was ours but also that he was no longer theirs. I cannot say that we left that office overjoyed and excited. We left that office with heavy hearts at what was still left to face and relief that God had given us a new story. The next two weeks were the hardest we have faced as a family since my bought with cancer in 2010. There was joy in it too but we had to look for it. We had to fight for it. God gave us a miracle that week and our paperwork was processed faster than anyone expected. On May 14th, Anna Beth, Adi, birth parents and I all boarded a plane and headed home. We arrived home and prepared ourselves for watching a long, hard goodbye. I think I shed so many tears that week I was dehydrated. We had pictures done with birth parents, we went on outings, we spent hours talking about their expectations, and finally we said goodbye.

The last half of this year has been surreal. November 22nd, 2016 Adi officially because Aditya Davis Wood! There are still times that Brian and I sneak in to watch Adi sleep for a few minutes just to make sure we did not dream it. We have watched Anna Beth in amazement as she has shown grace, unconditional love and amazing sensitivity to her new sibling. It has been beautiful and it is been so hard. We have had parenting fails and parenting wins. We have fought hard to not loose US during this process. We have learned so much about being intentional every day with our words and actions. We have continued to build our relationship with birth parents while still creating boundaries. We have protected Adi till he felt safe and now we push Adi to expand his walls. We have held Anna Beth as she has navigated the new experience of being a sibling and also the challenges of Middle School. And Brian and I have gone deeper in our relationship as we talk and pray through the hard of this past year. We are turning a corner as we head into this New Year. We will finish our year by dedicating Adi to Jesus on December 18th. We are hoping for a quieter season of life but also looking forward to seeing God work. We want to thank all of you for praying us through this last year. While we are both introverts that are terrible at being social, (still not sure how Anna Beth ended up an extrovert) we appreciate you. We are grateful for you asking us how we are and what we need. For being our village as we navigated some messy days. For crying with us, cheering us on, and quietly nodding your head at us from across the room in solidarity. I am grateful to put 2016 behind us but that does not mean I don’t rejoice in it. I am just ready to move forward and laugh more than I cry…serve more…move out of comfort zones…I want to continue my passion for raising kids to know and love Jesus… to be a village for others. I look forward with expectation to 2017 while quietly reflecting on a year where we saw God change our hearts, and family.

#Yearsinthemaking

We recently finished our last home visit with our adoption agency and are awaiting a finalization of Adi’s adoption. We started this adoption with an email in October of 2015. It is hard to believe it has been almost 6 months of learning this little guy. Spending hours watching him sleep, struggle to understand, and finally come to a place of peace. We will still have hard days ahead of grief and anxiety but for the most part, we are through the hardest transitions. Adi knows who his family is and prefers us over anyone else now. His battles with his sister have lessened and he sleeps without restless dreams, no more waking every little bit to make sure we are still there. He just trusts that we will do what we promise. Our promises are important so we follow through no matter how small. He is starting to delight in family outings and talks about them for days and weeks following. He has found a voice and is learning that it is safe to use it with us. He knows we will love him through his anger and celebrate his accomplishments, loudly I might add. Slowly we are broaching the subject of how he came to be in our family and he is starting to not be fearful or angry when discussing it. God is making himself real to Adi and we are grateful to be witness to that miracle. We remind him daily that Jesus is always with him, even though he cannot see him. That Jesus protects him and gives us everything we need.

Our birth parents are healing and moving forward. We love them and see them in Adi’s face and hear them in his voice. We are fiercely protective of them and also overwhelmed with the responsibility of that. The grief is still there for them but not as overwhelming. We are still praying that God gives them a peace about their choice so they can fully trust us to raise Adi. They have refused counseling so the process is longer and harder. They are opening their hearts to hear from God. We are seeing God work in amazing ways and are praying that He uses this adoption to bring them to the cross. Each week we see a softening in their emails and delight at his pictures/videos rather than hurt. We will soon be moving to less frequent contact and are praying that will give us all progress in the transition.

Anna Beth has faced so much change this year. It has been as hard to watch her walk through these changes as it has been with Adi. Eleven years as an only child and then to suddenly have a 4 year old brother invade every area of your life is hard. She observed all the hard of birth parents grief; she was witness to and victim to Adi’s grief, and she grieved the change in her own family. She wanted this adoption but wanting something does not lessen the effect of it. At the same time of going from the one and only, she was given more independence in the move to Middle School. My girl wants to love having independence but she really LOVES being our little girl. So many hard things she has faced in personal relationships with friends, family dynamic changes, and added responsibility. Anna Beth has not handled all of it well but she has handled most of it with more maturity than I see in some grown adults. We are proud of her and when she struggles, we step in to support and guide. We have moved into a new phase of parenting with her and it is so hard to change roles. She no longer needs our constant physical supervision but now she needs our spiritual and emotional support even more. Daddy and I have had so many quiet conversations on how to love her best through this hard. Sometimes we get it wrong but God showers grace on us in those moments. She continues to grow in beauty both inside and out.

In the last 6 months, Brian and I have dealt with more changes and grief on less sleep than any human should have to endure. At the same time, we have believed that God would sustain us so we have kept moving forward, knowing that the intensity would lessen with time. Many nights we dealt with the kids by dividing and conquering. As patience waned with one, we would switch off kids and plow through. I admittedly have struggled the most between the two of us. Birth momma has sought me out the most and I have been her support through the grief, sometimes daily. There were days that her grief was almost more than I could bare, while at the same time I was trying to walk Adi and AB through their anxiety and grief. There were days I would sit at my desk and just work through tears… tears of grief, exhaustion, and uncertainty, before heading home to face a night of hard. Kids needing emotional support, laundry piled up, a house that had not been truly clean in months and a husband that I lived in the same house with but we could hardly connect. Most of our deep conversations were done through email once we arrived at work. Both of us are emerging out of the fog now, we are planning dates, we are no longer too tired to stay up and talk, and we are able to now push Adi and AB to fly some on their own. We did not adopt a baby, we adopted an almost 5 year old that came with deep emotional baggage, his own opinions that he could not express, and he scrambled to maintain control of something so he felt safe. Slowly we are learning how to function as a family of 4 (#Woodfam4), to thrive and be able to see outside of our little world again. (Please forgive us if we have failed to see and reach out to you the last 6 months) The ties that bind us are growing stronger and God is molding us daily to His image. As we are quickly approaching the end of 2016 and will be celebrating 13 years of marriage soon after, we can now look back with appreciation at the hard of this past year. A year fraught with uncertainty, deep emotional pain, crazy highs, and lots of hard work…many times just trudging through each day. We fought hard to trust God and have been rewarded beyond our comprehension. Once again, God blew away the box we had Him in and made himself real to all of us, including our extended family and friends.