In the world of adoption, there are a few choices that are ill advised. One being adding children too quickly, picking up with another adoption when you have barely finished another.
I really believed I would adhere to this, so boldly told my husband that it was nice to be home and finished with the four year marathon we had been running. I was ready, I declared, to be finished with the adoption stuff.
Less than three weeks after arriving home my friend shared a young man who was shared with her by a social worker conducting a post placement visit for one of her Bulgarian adoptees. “I can’t adopt him,” she said, “but I know someone….”
When I saw her post, it was a familiar feeling… the initial gasp because there is just something about this child, the logical attempt to talk myself out of the words that I know I am about to speak to my husband, the asking God for discernment before blurting out to the hubs: “This young man needs a family and I believe that we could be it… what do you think?”
That is how, less than a month home, in what was promised (by me… I sit on a throne of lies) to be a brand new year with no things adoption, I sent an email declaring us a potential adoptive family for a young man in another state.
It’s ill advised. And honestly, it’s been a headache. I spend too much time trying to find the right person to speak to to possibly allow us to pass to the next step. It’s frustrating, and normal for the process. I’ve followed up and followed up on my follow ups. I wake up at night barely able to breathe because here is the thing: if I didn’t see something in him that said “Here I am mom…” I would never have sent that first email. Every day that passes I feel more helpless.
But here is what should be most ill advised: children do not belong forever in group homes. Children do not belong being set loose in the world with, if they are lucky, some trusted advisers from their past years in the system, a little cash and no place to belong. They do not belong with no family to celebrate their successes. No one in the stands when they graduate. No one waiting in the hospital hallways when their first child is born. No one cooking dry turkey and their favorite pies at Thanksgiving. That is what should be most “ill advised.”
I think God calls us to do things that make little sense on this side of the kingdom, and I believe in my heart that He directed us to step in and speak claim over this child’s future as that of a son. I am not sure that the system will allow this, and that is a reality that I am having to process a little more each day. It sucks. I know this about myself, though: I will make useless affirmations daily about how I am never involving myself in it again, and then God will say “go and do” and we will. We aren’t called to be comfortable and for things to be easy. We are called to see needs that are ill advised, and to do them anyway.