Philly Area mom, Life forever changed by adoption
In less than 10 hours, in the wee hours of the morning, I’m heading outta here and heading down south.
To this place.
Clearly, I’m totally roughing it.
As are over 400 other women who will be there with me for the Created for Care retreat.
I’m gearing up for several days of smiling until my cheeks hurt and adoption talk until my throat hurts.
That is, assuming I can make it there traveling by myself with 2 nearly 50 lb. duffle bags, my carry-on bag, and a big foam board sign.
It’s something we’ve talked about for years. We’ve said we’d do it. And, this was our chance.
And, we’re about to have our first 10 year old, people.
[pause for dramatic effect]
And, that 10 year old apparently can’t learn about manhood by heading to Disney World for a long weekend with Mom. (I swear I tried to make that sound like it would be really successful. Alas, I ultimately lost that one.)
Instead, given that he’s all into Wonka this and Wonka that, there only was one good option.
Mark took Evan out early on Saturday morning to run some errands one of which required a stop at the gas station where Mark returned to the car with a big ole Hershey bar which just so happened to have this in it when Evan tore it open.
The next 36 hours involved lots of smiles…and lots of sugar.
He even manned up with a hair cap with said 10-year-old-to-be to learn about cacao beans around the world and how chocolate is made.
But, apparently, there is something to be said about sugar overload and silliness.
Little hearts and minds open up to talk about things like who we are and who God is and that being a man means rejecting passivity, accepting responsibility, leading courageously, and expecting the greater reward, principles Mark set out to teach our up-and-coming man
I read this not long ago. Paul’s words to the church in Thessalonica. A church of mostly Gentiles, believers grafted into God’s family through faith by God’s grace. A church in the midst of persecution, opposition from their own people–the family next door, coworkers, people they walked by everyday. And, yet, they responded to God’s word and thrived. They were living in a way that pleased God (4:1) with hearts that beat as His. They loved the people around them as God Himself does (4:9-10). And, they did it together, encouraging each other as a community to keep on keeping on even when it was hard (5:11).
In Paul’s words to them as he started his letter, he assured them of his thankfulness for the work they were doing, work that was an overflow of their relationship with God. For their endurance, their long obedience in the same direction, only possible through hope. For their labor prompted by love.
The word labor here refers to unceasing toil, not something that is easy by any means. Put unceasing in front of anything and it becomes hard. Add it to toil and you have labor, a word many of us women know in a different sense and one I’d put with painful, uncomfortable, difficult, messy, emotional and physical and spiritual all at once, taking everything I have to give and then some.
As I thought more about labor and what comes to mind when I hear the word, it led me to this–isn’t this what adoption is? Labor in love?
There’s typically no physical pain like biological labor. No hospital delivery rooms, painful contractions and all that comes with that.
But adoption is labor.
It’s not just a romantic trip to another country or a life-altering phone call in the middle of the night. It’s a decision many think is crazy–maybe sometimes it is, crazy and irrational, illogical. It’s an unceasing commitment. It’s painful–for birth families. for children. and, oftentimes, for the people who become families. It’s uncomfortable–bringing home a stranger who became my daughter in a matter of moments was uncomfortable. Families who foster children who have been hurt, parents who bring home an older child or a child with a special need, or parents who were simply 2 and who are suddenly parents–it’s uncomfortable. Needless to say, it’s uncomfortable for the child as well–new place, new people, new language, new culture, new foods. It’s costly, difficult, messy. Emotionally, spiritually, physically exhausting.
It’s labor.
But, it’s redemptive. And, it’s fully possible. And, we’re fully able.
Because of love. And, because of hope.
And, with that in mind, we created a little reminder of that.
A subtle reminder of the labor that takes place in our hearts and in our whole lives, not in a hospital delivery room.
I know, I know. Last year, I said this wouldn’t happen again.
