Adoption

Someone I love and hold dear to my heart recently did a post that was so beautifully written and touched upon what many of our children must endure when they are adopted. Initially their entire world is turned upside down... EVERYTHING that they hold dear, that they know as familiar and comfortable is ripped from them and sometimes they are expected to immediately accept it as good and that they should be thankful for this new life... their surroundings, the things around them, the sounds, the smells, even the look of the people whose arms they are placed in is "foreign" to them... I truly cannot imagine what our children must experience........................................................ they are little heroes each and every one of them....
She also spoke of the term "Gotcha Day" and linked to something written by a woman who was born in Korea and adopted as a baby in 1972. Her words broke my heart I admit... for her birth mother, for her and in someways for all of our children and the mother's that will never again hold their child in their arms..................... I have chosen not to share the link for you all to read the words where she describes what she feels her birthmother must have felt about her child's "Gotcha"day and how she must have felt about adoption.... not because I do not think that much of what she said is valid, or that it is not likely to describe some of the pain and anguish that so many must surly feel at the loss of their child... I am choosing to not share it as I do not mean to do a disservice to this woman or her mother in Korea with what I am about to write myself.... Her article was entitled, "What does "Gotcha" mean?". Within it she wrote what she imagined her mother in Korea might say about the meaning of adoption in her life, if she could read other people’s blogs who have adopted, and if she could blog back. It was entitled,"What Adoption Means to Me." It was heart wrenching and I would not be surprised to find that she was right on in expressing what many mothers who give birth to their child and are not able to keep them with them for a myriad of reasons must surly feel. My heart breaks for each of these women... as well as the children who grieve for the mother's who bore them. My heart breaks for the birth mothers of my children, and I do not mean to make light of their pain and suffering that I cannot begin to imagine... I can only pray for the comfort, peace and healing that can only come from Jesus to fall upon them.
I can only share what is in my heart, what has taken root in the deepest recesses of my mind and will forever be a part of my soul. This post is something that I have wanted to voice, to share for a very long time now... this post is
What Adoption Means to Me...
I cannot, I will not apologize for adopting my children. I will not apologize for how I feel about them and for thanking God for the miracle of them... for answering my prayers and bringing my children safely into my arms. They are mine... my children. I did not carry them in my womb for nine months. I did not feel the pain of labor, the pain of having my body torn in child birth as they entered this world, but please don't make light of the fact that they were born of my heart. Please don't make light of my birth pangs. Since I was a young girl I prayed to one day hold my beloved children in my arms. Although I did not bare them from my womb, I too experience hard labor. I too bare the scars from child birth. Yes, it is true, I did not carry them in my womb, I carried them in my heart and I held on to them for dear life. They were and are a part of me. My labor lasted years... there were so many times of utter brokenness when I fell to my knees sobbing as I cried out in pain for God to give me my babies. With the depths of despair and pain that I cannot begin to put to words... All the while hanging on to a frayed thread of hope that one day He would answer my prayers because I could not let my babies go.... to do so would have been for me to die inside and to leave them, to abandon them in some orphanage in a far away land....
I do not know why God choose for my children to be born from another mother whose heart must surely be shattered, whose soul must surely be haunted at the loss of her child, whose arms must ache with the void their precious child once filled... I only know that they are as much mine as they are hers... they are our children. I cannot help but to thank God for answering my prayers... for bringing my children home to me, their Mother... I cannot help but to thank God for their "Birthmothers". I do not mean to imply in any way that these beloved women are "less than" myself when I use this term to speak of them... for me, it is a term of endearment. I thank Christ Jesus for my children's mothers, all of us.
My children were orphaned because their birthmothers were not able to keep them with them. It is a heartbreaking and brutal fact that their are families who are not able to raise their children due to many circumstances that are beyond their control. It is a part of living in a fallen world that is filled with pain and sorrow... filled with injustices and horror. But it would seem that some would have me apologize for taking part in the God given miracle of adoption. This is something that I will never do. Setting me aside, not taking account of my love for my children, and the fact taht I cannot imagine my life without them, let me bring them to mind... for whatever reasons their families were not able to keep them with them. So my children were put in institutions where they were cold, hungry, did not receive the nurturing touch that only a mother can give her child. When they lie awake at night, alone in a room filled with other orphaned children, crying, filled with fear, haunted by the hell, the torment, the brokenness that only an orphaned child can know... was I to leave them there... was I to leave them to survive without the love of their mother, their father... to survive without nurturing, security, provisions, without hugs, kisses, without comfort, safety, and hope that only a loving family of your own can provide. To leave them in a culture where for many the orphaned are thought of as nothing more than a menace, third class citizens that are looked down upon. Where they would be devoid of an education to be able to support themselves and perhaps even one day a family if they did survive to the ripe old age of 14 or 15 they would be turned out onto the streets with only the clothes on their backs. (if that) Where statistics are that many become street children who in shear desperation turn to drugs, prostitution, crime, in the name of survival... feeding the stigma that is often attached to the orphaned. Many of which reach the depths of despair, longing to put an end to the pain, the suffering, the degradation they hope to find their relief in the throws of suicide. (How many of us would realize these truths and sit here shaking our heads, disgusted by how so many peoples of so many nations treat the orphaned... yet, here we are in the greatest nation on earth, the United States of America and how many in our culture share this misguided opinion of these most precious little miracles of God.... how many treat a child who has been adopted as if they are a novelty, a possession, or treat them as if they are "less than" a child who was born into their family biologically. If your child is adopted how many times have you been asked by someone who their "real" parents are? "That would be ME, I am my children's real parent.") It is time to wake up and be accountable! There are millions, upon millions of children in this world (including America) who are suffering, who are hurting, who are being fed a lie that they don't matter.... that they are not loved... they need and they deserve to have their family! To be loved and held in their mother's arms and told how precious they are... how wonderful they are... how they make the world a better place to live in... that they matter! So, for those who would have me apologize for taking part in the miracle of adoption, I say to you, it is not in me to do so........... I would not leave my children to a life without the love of their family and all that it affords... They are mine and oh, how I thank My God for them!
I am becoming more and more aware of a few adults who were adopted. Who for whatever reasons seem to feel bitterness with their parents who adopted them for doing so. Who seem to be opposed to adoption as a whole. It seems to be that this select few who are sharing their pain are being portrayed and viewed even amongst some of the adoption community as many, perhaps even a majority. Why is this so??? How often this happens in so many spectrums. Someone is unhappy about what they have experienced and shout it from the rooftops..... and somehow the buzz starts and spreads like a cancer to the point that many start believing that those who are adopted often come into adulthood angry and bitter against their adoptive families. That adoption is not a beautiful, loving gift from God but that it is a bad thing that wounds the child. That their parents should be ashamed for bringing them home... for loving them, for raising them. I say this is a lie from the pit of Hell. Are there some who as adults are unhappy they were adopted. Yes, however it is not the majority. There have been hundreds of thousands- throughout time, most likely millions of children who were adopted and who grow to be well rounded, happy, healthy adults who thank God for their families which they love. They are happy that they were and are loved and nurtured by their families.
I would like to share that I too am adopted. I am so thankful for my Dad. My biological father moved my 16 year old mom across the country, away from her family with an infant, (me) and shortly there after went to the store and never came back. He called her two weeks later to tell her that he was in Asia opal hunting with his brother. This man is not my dad... he is not my "birthfather" (as I explained earlier that is a term of endearment and although I have since forgiven him for abandoning my teenage mother and myself I do not think of him as my family. My Dad is my Dad and I am thankful that he loves me and that he raised me and provided for me... I am thankful that he is my Dad.)
In closing I would also would like to shout from the rooftops that the gift of adoption is from God Almighty. It is a God thing, a gift of love..... how do I know this... because He adopted me. I was adopted by my Heavenly Father when I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. What greater example of love and the absolute truth that adoption is good, is beautiful, is loving and of God than that!
Ephesians 1:5 Having predestined us to adoption as sons by Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the good pleasure of His will,
Adoption is a "God" thing! The Word of God, the Bible is filled with God's gift of adoption, including Christ Jesus Himself, Who was adopted by His earthly father, Joseph.

If anyone has actually read this entire post that turned into a book I would like to say that my words were not intended to hurt or offend anyone. They are my feelings about God's gift of adoption. About His faithfulness in answering my prayers and bringing my children into my arms. About how thankful I am that they are safely sleeping in their beds at this very moment. I also hope that perhaps it may give someone a deeper understanding into the heart of adoption and about the millions of children in the world who are orphaned.......... whose hearts long for their families, who so desperately need their families. So, if you are reading this I pray that you will search your heart, that you will pray to know if your child is out there, somewhere, waiting to be held in their mothers arms.... that you will step out in faith and bring your child home to their family.
May God bless the children and thank You Father God for my children.... God's speed my beloved Isabella... Mommy is coming....