Do you ever struggle with something but you just can't put your finger on it?
Oh, you could describe a bunch of circumstances that are bothering you. But, that wouldn't really get to the heart of the matter. And changing them would just be like putting a band aid on the bigger heart lesson God wants to teach you.
Well, I'm there.
As I look back over the past year God has finally shown me what needs to change. Now, if you asked me what circumstance gave me fits and was the cause of much of my mental anguish in 2012 I could easily tell you what it was.
Homeschooling.
Many of our friends have chosen to homeschool. Many families who think like we do, value what we value, have kids our kids' age, attend the play group I hang around with and so on have chosen to homeschool. Every adoption blog I read seems to also be a homeschooling family. But, we don't. And I REALLY respect these parents and the priority they place on family. The same priority I felt like we held. And to be transparent it was making me crazy.
What were we missing? Why did everyone else seem to "get" it and we didn't? Was I being lazy? Would my children pay for my choices?
The problem was I had prayed about it, considered it, and basically wore the conversation out with God and he wouldn't release me to it. So despite my feelings of inadequacy and doubt we chose to be obedient and continue with the public school route.
It was bothering me so much my husband bravely read some books, did some soul searching, and decided to really open himself up to the idea. We talked it over and in the end we were on the same page. For now, for this season, we felt this is where the Lord wanted our child. And it convicted us to be more intentional about teaching the Bible in our home as a public school family. (A wonderful bonus.)
Tadah. Problem solved.
Unfortunately no.
I was still feeling all those same feelings. Inadequate. Left out. And homeschooling wasn't the only area where I was having pains of feeling different.
I had had enough of these feelings that God graciously showed me the thing I needed to work on this year was doing what he thought best for our family. Period. To embrace the family and children I had. They might be strong-willed. They might be energetic. They might be loud. But, they are mine and I am blessed. If I needed someone to tell me I am a good mom I should ask him. (Even though Satan was screaming otherwise.)
And then God showed me why.
I walked by this.
There were pictures of my sweet babies.
And for the first time ever I felt a twinge of sadness at the fact that our family photo is no longer going to look like everyone else's. And I was scared to even admit it. Because you see I am head over heals in love with my son. I could care less what color his skin is. The end.
And a part of me realized it was a very similar feeling that I felt each time I was pregnant. A bit of sadness for Grace having to share me. A fear of if I can love two. An uncertainty that I can be a mom to a B-O-Y.
But, as adoption transitions from "this might happen eventually...someday" to "this is really going to happen! (with surprise)" it was also a realization from the Lord that I like my "little white box." I want my family to fit in. I want other moms to "get" my life. I'm not sure I want to be radically obedient. Oh, its fine if non-Christians don't understand. But, shouldn't I at least get to be part of the in crowd at church?
Do you remember that children's song?
If I had a little white box to put my Jesus in.
I'd take him out and (kiss kiss kiss) and put him back again.
That is how I want my faith to work. I want to take it out and give it attention and then put it back again.
And the truth is my white box is already splintered. I wouldn't want to turn back if I could. I am an adoptive mom. And while people think that is all the rage these days a "fad." The truth of the matter is there are no other transracial families through adoption in our church. (yet) There aren't any other moms in my play group that have adopted. My own mother, aunt, grandmother who offer so much godly wisdom can't speak to this new challenge from personal experience. There are no Guinean Adoption Camps.
And I can choose to dwell on that or I can embrace the story God is writing for our family.
I can praise God that there are other families in our church who are moving towards adoption. That within our own family we will soon have a "China cousin." I can remember that God gave me another Mama in Ohio who is waiting for a David to come home from West Africa. I can learn that "being alike" isn't the end all be all for my mom friendships.
From what I hear this is part of the blessing of getting old. Learning to be more comfortable in your own skin. But, I'm not sure I want to be comfortable. Rather, I want to radically embrace the uncomfortable for God's glory. And I know I have a long way to go. Somedays I'm not sure I even know what radical obedience looks like. But, God has shown me it might not look like everyone else. And I want to learn to be okay with that.
