Signe and I were talking yesterday about the advice we would offer to a family adopting older children. There were a few themes we kept coming back to as we stood in my kitchen, one of which I will share today. Just pretend that you were standing with us as our kids played together in the backyard. You could even imagine that we were all sipping lemonade, although that didn’t quite happen.

I would encourage a friend who is adopting to give up your pride and your desire to compare. I thought I was a fairly humble person, but adopting my children has dropped me to my knees when it comes to thinking highly of myself and my capabilities as a mother. Sweet Pea was a hard baby and a challenging toddler, but once I got on the Christian Mommy Discipline Train, she shaped up pretty well. That doesn’t mean I never had a child throw a tantrum in public, and I won’t mention the time that four year-old Noah pulled the fire alarm at church and the congregation had to evacuate the building. Those were embarrassing moments, but this, this kind of parenting brings a different sort of humility.

In 22 years of being a mother, I have never been so stumped or so completely empty of wisdom at times. I have never read so many books, searched so many sites, or called so many experts in search of help. I had never taken my child to a therapist or felt that I might soon need one myself. I have never had to call my husband home from work because a child is so distressed that I can’t keep everyone safe – and not just once, but multiple times. I have never had to seek out alternatives to homeschooling, (something I held dear to my heart) because it just wasn’t working. I had never thought about the acronyms IEP, RAD, PTSD. I had never sent an email to my friends telling them I didn’t think I could manage the summer on my own, and would they be willing to help.

I also didn’t know the joy of watching a child fall in love with me. I didn’t know the beauty of holding a child in my arms and fiercely loving her even though I had only met her weeks before. I didn’t know the agony of waiting for a child who was 8,000 miles away, or seeing her turn her face to me for the first time and come into my arms. I didn’t know the hope I would feel when I saw sad and tender tears on my child’s face for the first time, after months of angry tears. I didn’t know how incredible it would feel to hear my child say, “I love you Mommy. You are the best Mom,” when I knew this was a true revelation to her.

If you want to adopt older children, be ready to lay down your pride and abandon yourself to love. It will be different than you think; better in some ways and much harder in others. Find a few people you can trust, friends you can call at any hour, who will understand and love your children even when they seem unloveable. Don’t pressure your child to become like your other children who have been raised with loving guidance and discipline since birth. Do not, under any circumstances, compare your newly adopted child with your other children or with your friends’ children. You will live to regret it. Give your children time to heal. Healing may take a great deal of your time, energy, and finances…but give it all away for your child’s sake.

Eby’s vacation Bible school verse today was:

He has shown you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you? But to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.
Micah 6:8

Amen.

Humbly,

~Lisa